Joker and the Seven Stages of Grief
by Lilpixiegirl2511
Summary: Joker finally offs the Bat. He's elated, ecstatic, giddy...until he realizes he just destroyed his only reason for living. We'll follow Joker through his cycle of grief over this sudden revelation. As both his lover and shrink we'll also delve into the thoughts and insight of Harley Quinn. M for language/violence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - To anyone just starting the story, this is not like the rest of my work. It's serious subject matter, it's darker than my previous stories and includes a lot of heavy content. There is a lot more violence and abuse both physical and mental. While there are still quite a few light points and humor incorporated, if you're looking for my usual, 'softer' Joker, this story may not be to your taste. Just wanted to throw that out there. Hope you all enjoy it.**

Joker and the Stages of Grief

Chapter 1 – Initial Shock

It was a terrible night for a heist. The sky above was crowded with murky storm clouds that were occasionally cut by brilliant forks of lightning as they briefly lit up the Gotham night. Icy sheets of rain were pounding the roof of Gotham Towers West, the torrent overwhelming the gutters and creating rivers of water for Harley to slog through, as she tried desperately to get to her Puddin. Joker was on the other side of the roof duking it out with the Batman in the midst of the deluge, although at the moment she could barely make their figures out through the harsh pellets of sleet and rain blinding her. The wind gusted violently, knocking her slightly off balance and ripping her cowl completely off of her head. Mascara and clown white makeup ran off her face in messy rivulets as she pulled herself along the handrail fighting the gale force winds. Another flash of lightning momentarily brightened the sky and she could see her lover and the costumed vigilante grappling one another. She called out but her words were swallowed by the crashing of thunder and the howling wind.

She had awoken that day with a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach about the upcoming job. She told Joker as much before they left the lair to raid the Gotham Peregrinator's Club Charity Auction, but Mr. J assured her she was being a silly little ninny and that he had prepared for every eventuality. That may have been true, but the one thing he couldn't control was the weather. It had started out as nothing more than a moderate rain when they arrived at Gotham Towers West and headed up to the Top Hat Room on the uppermost floor of the building. The winds picked up significantly as they liberated the bulk of the wallets, jewelry and auction items. By the time Batman crashed through the floor to ceiling windows to thwart the clowns, the weather had turned for the worse and the storm had been upgraded to a category three hurricane with wind gusts of one hundred twenty miles per hour.

Batman had Joker pinned beneath him on the far corner of the roof. Desperate to get to her lover, Harley launched herself into a series of front somersaults to help her cut through the winds. As she stood she saw Joker twist his body underneath the weight of the Caped Crusader. He managed to get his feet between himself and Batman and he kicked violently knocking the vigilante backwards, making him tumble off the side of the building. Joker stood and brushed himself off before walking over to stare down at Batman who was dangling precariously from the edge and being thrown about in the violent winds. She rushed over to see Batman fumbling under his cape with one hand. She heard her lover cackling maniacally.

"Looking for something Bat-brain?" he shouted as he held up the Batman's grappling gun. "Bad day to not have a backup Batsy. Ha ha ha!" Joker looked over at his waterlogged moll then back down at Batman as he examined the grappling gun. "So what's the weight limit on this thing anyway? Meh, if it can hold you and Catwoman, I suppose me and Harley should be fine." He looked up at Harley. "C'mon Poo, let's make like a bread truck and haul buns!" Joker fired the grappling gun towards an adjacent building and once he was sure it was going to hold he yelled to Harley. "Hold on tight, Cupcake!" She tightly wrapped her arms around his neck as Joker looked down at Batman and held up the detonator in his other hand. "Bye, bye Bats! It's really been a blast!"

Joker activated the detonator and pulled the trigger on the grappling gun as he wrapped his free arm around Harley's waist. They shot off of the roof as the top three floors of the building were torn asunder by a vicious explosion. Flames and smoke plumed into the air as debris rained down on the traffic below the now demolished tower. Joker used Batman's grappling gun to swing himself and Harley to safety atop an apartment building a few hundred feet away from the wreckage. He abruptly let go of Harley and she stumbled as another gust of wind trounced her.

"Puddin! We gotta get out of here before this wind blows us right off the roof!"

Joker had his hands cupped around his eyes as he squinted through the storm at the burning tower trying to see where his nemesis had managed to escape to this time. The rain was coming down too hard to make anything out at this distance.

" _PUDDIN!_ "

" _WHAT?"_

He spun around to glare at his henchwench. She looked like a drowned rat. Her pigtails were plastered to her head, her makeup had almost completely washed off with the exception of a few black and white smears here and there, her arms were wrapped around her body as she shivered violently, her teeth were chattering and her lips were turning a deep purple color. He sighed and rolled his eyes at his girlfriend.

"Fine. C'mon kiddo, let's get you indoors. I can always kill Batsy next time I suppose."

"Th-thanks Mistah J. I c-can't feel my f-fingers right now." J picked the lock on the roof door and the clown couple descended the stairs. "A-anyway Mistah J, I th-think you got'em this time." He chuckled.

"Well thanks for the vote of confidence Pumpkin, but you know as well as I do that Batsy _always_ lives to fight another day." He shrugged, "Which is just as well anyway. There's a lot of life left in this here clown. What in the world would I do with myself without my favorite playmate?" Harley leaned her wet head on his soggy shoulder.

"We could always start a family, Pud." He pushed her head violently away from him.

"Harley, how many times do I have to tell you it'll be a cold day in hell before the Joker settles down and has kids?" He grumbled. She smiled.

"At least one more, Puddin."

"Harley, if God had intended you to talk he would have given you a less irritating voice. So zip it."

They met up with the henchmen and headed back to their current hideout, an abandoned Chinese bath house in Chinatown. Their current choice of lair was fortunate for Harley who was still shivering and sneezing pitifully. She immediately stripped off her sodden costume, slipped into her bathrobe and headed for the baths. She sighed as she eased herself into the hot water. She felt frozen to the bone and although she still continued to sniffle and sneeze eventually the feeling began to come back into her extremities.

Once she had warmed up, she headed up to the fourth floor where she and Joker had set up their living space. She changed into a heavy fleece panda kigurumi suit complete with eared hoodie and warm fluffy slippers. She made a cup of hot coffee and curled up on the couch with a box of tissues and a thick comforter. Joker was likely locked away in his office or lab, although for once she didn't really care since she wasn't feeling very well at the moment anyway. She turned on the television which must have eventually lulled her to sleep. When she woke she vaguely registered Jack Ryder reporting on their heist at Gotham Towers. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and watched. She was only half paying attention until Commissioner Gordon stepped up to the microphone to make a statement.

"At this time we are still conducting our investigation but eye witness reports confirm that Batman was caught in the explosion at Gotham Towers tonight. We found this in the debris." Gordon held up a torn and half burned black cape and cowl. "While I have every confidence that Batman will eventually turn up, at this time we have not been able to locate him, nor has he communicated with the GCPD. We will keep the public informed as more evidence comes to light."

"Puddin, ya need to come see this! _PUDDIN!_ " Joker's heavy footfalls headed towards her.

"Now what do you want you dizzy-" He stopped and stared at her in the panda suit then spontaneously began sniggering at her. "What the hell are you wearing?" Her nose was stuffy causing her voice to sound flat and nasally.

"Shuddup Mistah J. It's warm and I'm sick now after being out in that damn hurricane with you and Bats all night!" She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Awwww, my poor widdle Poohbear. Do we have the sniffles Pumpkin?" She pushed her bottom lip out in an exaggerated pout and nodded her head. He sat beside her on the couch and patted his lap. She slid over, leaning her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his long arms around her. "So what was it you wanted me to see, Harley?"

She pointed at the TV which was currently showing a commercial with a little green lizard selling car insurance. She looked up into her lover's face.

"The news report about the job tonight Pud. They found Batsy's cape and cowl in the rubble but they haven't found B-man. I really think you may have done him in this time Puddin." He patted her back.

"Well that's certainly wishful thinking Poo. Give it a few days, he'll turn up. He always does." She shrugged.

"If you say so Mistah J." She pulled a tissue out of her sleeve and turned away from Joker as she sneezed.

"C'mon Pumpkin, let's get you to bed. We can't have you sneezing while we rig the charges at Gotham Stadium next week. You'll either give us away or blow us from here to Chattahoochie." He stood and carried her to their shared bedroom where he helped her into bed. "Get some rest, we have a lot to do this week to get ready for the stadium bombing and I need you in tip top shape. Sweet dreams, Poo."

"Night Puddin."

The following morning Harley was still stuffy and now had a hacking cough and a fever to go along with the sneezing. J was at the counter pouring himself a cup of coffee when she wandered into the kitchen with the newspaper.

"Morning Mistah J." Hearing the wheezing, nasal sound of her voice he turned to inspect the state of his girl. She did not look good at all, which of course struck him as funny. She pursed her lips as he chuckled at her. "Yeah that's it, just yuck it up, creep. It's your fault I'm sick ya know!" She threw the paper on the table as a coughing fit hit her.

"Sorry Poo, you're just so cute when you look this pitiful."

She didn't know if she should take that as an insult or a compliment, but since she didn't have the energy to argue she ignored him and put on a kettle of water for tea as Joker settled in at the kitchen table and opened the paper. The front page headline read: _Batman Missing After Explosion at Gotham Towers_. There was a picture of the burnt cape and cowl, one of the still burning tower and another of the Bat-signal lighting the sky above the GCPD building.

He went on to read the rest of the article. In a nutshell, they summed up their raid on the auction and Joker's fight on the roof with Batsy. So far the GCPD had recovered pieces of Batman's costume and utility belt but had yet to find any sign of a body. Once the blaze was completely extinguished the Fire Department would be bringing in rescue dogs to try to find any survivors or bodies buried in the rubble of the building. In the meantime, the Bat-signal would remain lit until contact with Batman was made.

"Hmmm, I must have really knocked old Bat Brain for a loop! He's still off somewhere licking his wounds, hahaha!"

Harley sat across from him with a hot cup of tea clutched in her hands.

"Puddin, I really think you may have killed him this time. He had no grapple gun, no Bat Brats to swoop in and save him and there's no way he could have lived through both the explosion and the thirty story drop from the roof." He shot her a narrow eyed look.

"Harley, I think I know Batsy a little bit better than you do, and I _know_ he made it out of that explosion. I've nearly killed him hundreds of times now and he always, _always_ shows back up." She sipped her tea, sputtered and started hacking as another violent coughing fit gripped her. Joker stood and walked behind her chair pressing a hand to her forehead. She was burning up. "Oh Poo, you really are sick, aren't you?" She nodded weakly. "Well, I know I'm not usually this generous, but you'll do me absolutely no good in this condition. Harls, I'm ordering you to mandatory bed rest. I'll have Lewis check in on you in case you need anything." She was surprised but there was no way she was going to argue with him, she could barely keep her eyes open.

"Thanks Puddin. I could use a few more hours of sleep. I'm really not feeling very well." She attempted to hug her lover but he stepped back holding his arms out in front of him to fend her off.

"No, no, Poo. Keep your germs to yourself, no sharing with Daddy. You just toddle off now and rest up."

As Harley recovered from her cold Joker spent the bulk of his time working on the bombs for the Gotham Knight's game on Sunday. In the evening he was able to enjoy watching the news without Harley's incessant blabbering, which was nice for a change. The top story running that night was about Batman still being unaccounted for after his battle with the Joker. J wasn't quite sure how to take it. He was pleased that he hurt Batsy enough that he'd been out of commission for over 24 hours, but now he was worried that he wouldn't be in tip top shape to thwart the stadium bombing. A mass bombing wasn't going to be any fun at all if Batman weren't there. He shrugged and decided to keep an eye on the news for the next few days.

Harley was still deathly ill the following day and stayed mostly in their bedroom as to not expose her Puddin to her germs. Lewis stopped by a few times a day to bring her hot chicken soup and tea, over the counter medication and fresh boxes of tissues. Her fever finally broke late that night and she was tired of lying in bed so she wandered out to the living room to find Joker. He was sitting on the floor in front of the television looking a tad bit stressed.

"Puddin? You okay?"

"Shhhhhh! I'm trying to listen Harley!"

She looked at the television. It looked like a press release of some kind was just about to get started. Commissioner Gordon approached the podium.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the press I would like to thank you for being here. I have additional information to share in regard to the Gotham Towers bombing two nights ago. A joint effort by the GCPD and GCFD utilizing rescue dogs to search the Gotham Tower for any survivors or remains has been concluded. Amongst the rubble nine bodies were discovered. The names of the deceased are being withheld until family members can be properly notified.

We have recently been in contact with close associates of Batman and they have confirmed that there has been no contact from our caped crusader.

So, it is with a heavy heart that I regret to inform you all that one of the bodies recovered today matches the physical description of and is believed to be the body of the Batman. Due to the degree of damage to the corpse, a positive ID will take some time, if a positive identification can be made at all. We will keep you all posted as we continue our investigation.

In honor of the service Batman has provided the City of Gotham the Bat-signal will remain on until further notice to remind our citizens of the incredible sacrifices one man has made to keep our streets safe and our children protected. The Batman has selflessly waged a crusade to protect us from the costumed criminals that seem to plague this city, but in the end, ultimately it was his drive to keep us safe from these psychopaths that has caused his untimely demise, killed at the hands of the Joker.

I am honored to have worked with this man and to have been able to call him my friend. As you gaze into the night sky and look at that symbol, please try to remember all the Batman has done for you, the citizens of Gotham City, and all that he stands for. We should all strive to be more like Batman. To be brave, to be altruistic, to care about the little people, to fight against crime and injustice, to stand for something bigger than yourself…. peace, justice and the American way. Thank you Batman for all you have done. Rest in peace my friend."

The commissioner swiftly walked away from the podium with tears standing in his eyes. Joker stared at the television in complete shock with his jaw hanging open.

"Puddin! You did it! You finally killed B-man!" He didn't acknowledge her just continued staring at the television even though they were already reporting on a mass shooting at a church in Oklahoma "Pud? Hellooo? Is anyone home?" She waved her hand in front of Joker's face. He very slowly turned his head and gazed at her with a look of complete incomprehension on his face. "Puddin? Are you okay?"

"I killed Batman." He deadpanned as he stared blankly at her. "I killed Batman?" He questioned as he scratched his head. "I killed the freaking Batman!"

Suddenly a huge smile broke across Joker's face as realization sunk in. At the same moment their home phone started ringing. Harley walked over and picked it up.

"Pud? It's Harvey."

Harley eavesdropped on Joker's conversation.

"Harvey! Believe it or not, I'm as surprised as you are. Well thank you but it was nothing really. Oh no, I totally agree Harv. I think that's a wonderful idea. Tomorrow it is! See you then!"

Harley raised an eyebrow at Joker.

"What was that all about?"

"Oh you know, Harvey was just congratulating me on offing the Bat and thanking me for getting rid of the thorn in all our sides. Oh and we're going to the Iceberg tomorrow night."

"We are?" He beamed at her.

"Yup the boys are throwing me a little party to properly show their mutual appreciation."

The phone rang again and continued to do so for the remainder of the night. All of Gotham's rogue community as well as the mob and the rest of the organized crime families all wanted to thank and congratulate the Joker for finally eliminating their flying rodent problem. Harley was still a little under the weather and after several hours of listening to Mr. J have virtually the same conversation over and over and over again she got bored and went to lay back down.

She woke up several hours later to discover Joker had never come to bed. She quietly padded down the hallway. She could see him silhouetted against the large picture window in his office, leaned slightly back in his chair, legs bent and propped on the windowsill as he stared blankly out at the city. She could just barely make out his features from the soft light of the streetlamp reflecting off his milky skin. He held his chin in his hand as if deep in thought. She softly rapped on the door frame.

"Mistah J?" He jumped and quickly ran his hands down his face a few times as she crossed the room.

"Jeez Harls, you startled me. What are you doing up? Aren't you supposed to be recuperating?"

"I couldn't fall back to sleep. You okay Puddin?" She could distinctly see the dampness on his cheeks but knew to keep her mouth shut about it.

"Of course I am, Pumpkin. Just thinking about the future. With Batsy out of the picture the city is gonna be ours on a silver platter. What do you think about making Amusement Mile our new base of operations?"

She cocked her head to the side. She had spent six months as his therapist in Arkham and had learned much more about him in the years that followed and he didn't fool her. Not one bit. He was upset. He was _very_ upset. He knew how to hide his emotions well when he had them but she could tell by his tone of voice and inflection as well as the air of nonchalance about him that was completely feigned. She could see the tension in his body yet his posture was a bit too slouchy. Dr. Harleen Quinzel whispered to her from the recesses of her brain.

 _'He's just barely beginning the first stage of the grieving process. He's in shock at the unexpected loss. He's trying to come to terms with it and needs time to process the information. Don't push him.'_

So as tempted as she was, instead of asking about his feelings, she simply answered his question.

"Amusement mile sounds good Puddin. You need me to get you anything?"

"No thanks, sweets. You oughta get back to bed though Poo. You don't want to be all sniffly for my big party tomorrow do ya?"

"Okay Mistah J. Just holler if ya need me."

She leaned down and kissed him lightly on the cheek and he allowed it. She ran her tongue across her lips tasting the saltiness of his almost dry tears. She was curious to see which way this was all going to go. Either he'd drag it out until she was dealing with a case of complicated grief or he'd go through all the stages of grief in five minutes and be done with it. She prayed for the latter.

 **A/N – So just a little note about the stages of grief. They can happen in any order and certain steps may repeat themselves and become a bit of a roller coaster ride of pain. Then we have to take into consideration that this is the Joker we're talking about so there may be brand new steps in his grieving process that the rest of us would not normally experience. This chapter is just the basic intro to the story so don't be surprised to see additional shock/disbelief from our favorite psychopathic clown.**

 **This chapter is mainly from Harley's perspective but that will not be the case throughout the story, we'll look more deeply into both characters as the story progresses. Hope you're enjoying it so far!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – Denial

Harley woke feeling rested and she could finally breathe through her nose again which was a blessing. She took care of her morning routine, got dressed and ventured into the lair to find Joker. She discovered him in his lab on the second floor happily building bombs and assembling detonators as he hummed to himself.

 _Maybe he's already come to terms with it?_

He glanced up from his work when he heard her footsteps shuffle into the room.

"Morning Poo!" He said brightly. "Looks like someone is finally feeling better."

"I could say the same about you Puddin. You seem to be taking this Batman thing pretty well." He smirked at his girl.

"Oh come on, Poo. You know as well as I do that Batsy isn't really dead. Once he recovers from our last punch up, he'll show up when everybody least expects it and the fun can begin again. In the meantime, if everyone wants to congratulate me and throw me parties, it's certainly not going to hurt my feelings. You know how much I enjoy being in the spotlight. I'll accept their accolades, gifts and gratitude and when Batsy's back in the saddle I'll act just as shocked as everyone else, then go back to trying to kill him again. Just like old times."

"Puddin, have you considered that B-man may actually be dead this time? That it's possible he really isn't coming back?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Of course not. Because he _isn't_ dead!" he shouted. "He'll be back before you know it. You just wait and see. When we hold an entire stadium, packed wall to wall with sport going spectators hostage he'll show his pointy ears in public. Mark my words Harley." Dr. Quinzel spoke up inside of Harley's head.

' _He's denying the reality of Batman's death to protect himself from the pain of his loss. He's not emotionally prepared to deal with his feelings so he's entertaining fantasies of Batman somehow coming back. He's acting as if and has likely convinced himself that nothing has happened. This state could last a few days or a few weeks. Be prepared for the fallout.'_

"Okay, whatever you say Puddin. If you don't need my help today I was planning on running over to see Ivy." He waved at her in a shooing gesture.

"Fine Pumpkin, go do what you need to. Don't forget we're leaving for the Iceberg at eight tonight so don't dilly-dally too long." She kissed him on the cheek.

"Okay Pud, I'll see you later." He shook his head as he watched her go. Once she was out of earshot he began thinking out loud as he wired the detonator in his hand

"How can that dim-witted dunce actually think that Batsy's dead? Doesn't she remember all of the other times Batman was _supposedly_ dead? Like the time I killed him only to find out a week later that the person I killed was just a civilian in a Batman costume. Or that time he was impaled on a shovel, of all things, and had to jump into one of Ra's Al Ghul's Lazarus pits. What about the time that Darkseid guy from Apokolips vaporized him? Did he really die? Noooo, he got sent back in time and somehow managed to make his way back from prehistory to modern Gotham! And she thinks a teensy little explosion did him in? Fah! It amazes me how incredibly simple minded Harley can be sometimes. Batsy's not dead and that's that. It's business as usual around here." He smiled as he pulled out the soldering gun. "Yup, I'll see you on Sunday, Batman. Count on it."

Across town Harley was sitting in Poison Ivy's living room drinking coffee and talking about all that had happened over the past few days.

"He's in denial, Red. I get why. Let's face it, there have been at least ten times over the years when everyone thought Batman was dead then a few weeks later he turns up again as if nothing ever happened. For Mistah J's sake, and quite frankly my own, I really hope that ends up being the case but I just don't know. I was there, and I don't know how anyone could have survived that explosion."

"Well Harls, I certainly don't envy you. Being around Joker on a normal day is hard enough. I can't even imagine what he'd be like while grieving for his little costumed butt-buddy."

" _Red!_ That's not very nice!" Ivy chuckled.

"Oh come on Harls, even _you_ have to admit that there's something going on there." Harley crossed her arms over her chest.

"No, I don't. Mistah J and I have discussed this at length both in-session at Arkham and at home. It's not a sexual attraction! Mistah J is straight as an arrow!" Ivy smirked at her.

"Oh really? Then look me in the eye and tell me he's never made you wear the cape and cowl or use bat-cuffs on him in the bedroom."

Harley's jaw hung slack as her eyes widened in surprise. She sputtered and backpedaled.

"T-that's not the same thing! It's just a fantasy scenario between two consenting adults!" she shouted. Ivy's smile was so wide it almost split her face in two.

"I _knew_ it! Oh, you kinky little monkeys!" She laughed out loud as she gripped her stomach. "Does he make you peg him too?"

"What?"

"You know, a little strap on action? Inquiring minds want to know the sick, twisted antics the Clown Prince and Princess of Crime get up to in the privacy of their bedroom."

"Well, there was this one t-. No! What goes on in my boudoir is between me and Puddin!" Ivy laughed again.

 _"I KNEW IT!"_

"Bite me Red!" She winked at Harley.

"Oh, did you plan on staying over and drinking three bottles of wine again? I'm up for it if you are." Harley flinched and her face grew serious.

"Red we talked about this. We aren't ever supposed to talk about that night. _Ever!_ If Mistah J ever found out, I'll be eating through a straw for months." Ivy leaned in and whispered in Harley's ear.

"You know you loved it!" Harley backed away.

"Red, what is the matter with you today? Are you high or something?" Ivy shrugged.

"Just a little, strictly for quality control. New project I'm working on. C'mon I'll show you."

Ivy led Harley down to her lab. Harley smelled something very pungent as she descended the stairs.

"What is that smell?" Ivy opened the door to the lab.

"My newest project. I'm working on some brand new strains." Ivy's lab looked as it always did with the exception of about a dozen large pot plants scattered across her lab tables. She pointed to one of the tables. "These over here are low to no THC, high CBD medicinal strains. They treat things like epilepsy, cancer, MS, arthritis and a slew of other conditions. These go strictly to medical dispensaries across the city." She brought Harley over to another table. These plants looked completely different than the others. "And these over here are the real deal." She caressed a plant that was heavy with large almost white looking, very crystalized buds. "This is my newest creation. The buds are coated in highly concentrated THC crystals. I call this strain 'Frozen'."

"Wow, it's pretty. They really do look like they're coated in ice." Ivy chuckled.

"That's only half the reason for the name. Mostly it's because this strain really helps you let things go." Harley rolled her eyes.

"And you call _my_ jokes bad. Red, when the hell did you get involved in all of _this_?" Ivy raised one red eyebrow.

"Really Harley? My name is Poison Ivy, my super power is _growing plants_ and it never once crossed your mind that I had a hand in the cannabis trade?"

"Okay, I guess it should have occurred to me, but you've never mentioned it before." Ivy shrugged.

"I didn't think it would interest you. This is why I don't have to pull regular jobs like you and J. I don't need cash or diamonds when I have a significant and steady income off of these babies. Anyway, my involvement is limited. I grow the product and the rest is handled by my loyal associates who distribute the goods."

"You mean mind controlled associates."

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other. Anyway, about seventy percent of the stoners in this city get their product from Poison Ivy, they just don't know it."

"Wow. I guess you really do learn something new every day. Is there anything else I should know about you?"

"I'm also the biggest player in Gotham's mushroom trade." She saw the confused look on Harley's face. " _Magic_ mushrooms Harls. They have a hallucinogenic effect. You seem pretty naive about all of this."

"Well I've never done any of this stuff! How should I know? I tried Ecstasy once at a rave in college. It was great until I started puking my guts up, then it wasn't so fun anymore. That was my one and only experiment with any mind altering substances other than alcohol." Ivy produced a small glass jar full of the white looking buds.

"Well here, take this with you in case you ever get the urge to experiment again. You don't need much, this is _really_ good stuff, the street value of this strain is six hundred dollars an ounce. At least if J drives you crazy you'll have a little escape handy." She warily eyed the jar.

"You won't be mad if I don't use it right?"

"Of course not." Harley put the jar in her purse and looked at her watch.

"Oh crap. I better run girlfriend. I have to get ready for Mistah J's party. You're going right?" Ivy sighed.

"Yeah I'll be there. Harvey asked me to be his date tonight." Harley gave Ivy a cockeyed grin.

"You and Harvey, eh? You planning on a little ooh la la later _? Inquiring minds want to know_." Ivy punched her lightly in the arm.

"I guess I deserved that."

"Ya think? Soooo, you and Harv?"

"It's just a date, but you never know what the night may hold." Harley squealed.

"Ah, young love."

"Lust Harley, not love. Big difference."

"Whatever. Anyway, you're not to breathe a word of our conversation earlier to anyone or I will hunt you down and bash you with my mallet, got it Pammy?"

"Yeah, yeah. It's not like everyone doesn't already speculate about it, but I promise. Scout's honor." She held up her three middle fingers.

"I'll see you at the Iceberg later. Bye Red!"

Back at the Ha-hacienda Joker finished rigging the detonators and completed the last of the bombs. Once that was done he picked out his suit for the party. Then, without Harley there, he realized he had nothing else to do for a few hours. He tried reading a book, but found he couldn't concentrate on it. He flipped through TV channels, but found nothing he was interested in watching. Without any distractions he found himself thinking about Bats.

 _Could it actually be true? Could I have actually killed him for real this time? No. It couldn't be, it just couldn't be. How can I go on without him? Batman has been my whole life, my whole world, since the accident at Ace Chemicals. I don't remember anything before that day. It's always been about Batsy and our wonderful little game. I've put_ _everything_ _into our relationship, it can't suddenly just be over. This isn't really happening, he's not dead. Really. He's just… resting, right? Or was abducted by aliens or something._

 _I need a distraction. Something to keep me occupied until the stadium gag then Batsy will show up and everything can go back to normal again. Too bad Harley's not here, she's usually pretty good at keeping me occupied. Hmmmm…._

"I've got it! I know what will keep me busy." He stalked off into his lab to get started.

Harley got back from Ivy's around dinnertime. She needed to hurry up and start getting ready for the party. When she got to the fourth floor the door to their living space was slightly cracked. She paid it no mind, J was famous for getting distracted and not completing simple tasks like closing doors. As she opened the door she was doused with a full bucket of ice water. The bucket bounced off her head and landed with a thud on the floor next to her foot.

"Mistah Jaaayyyyy! I'm gonna kill you!" She screamed. She could hear him guffawing from around the corner. She put her hands on her hips as he stepped out of the hallway to look at her. "What the hell, Puddin?" He held up his cell phone and snapped a picture of her. "Oh no!" She dug in her handbag for her phone which was now drenched and wouldn't turn on. " _PUDDIN! What the hell is wrong with you?"_ He was still cackling and was now holding his sides.

"Oh Poo, the look on your face is priceless!"

"Why would you do this?" He straightened up and plastered a serious look onto his face.

"I was bored and you weren't here, so I had to occupy myself somehow."

"So you decided it was a great idea to play a practical joke on me?" Her hands were balled into fists and her knuckles were turning white.

"Pumpkin, have you forgotten exactly who you live with. I'm the _Joker_. Jokes are kinda my thing." She threw her useless phone at him but he sidestepped it as he chuckled and snorted at her.

"You owe me a new iPhone, you jerk!"

She stormed past him into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. She was absolutely livid, but she supposed she shouldn't be particularly surprised. He had a tendency to make her life hell when he was bored or sad or angry. She probably should have anticipated this juvenile acting out, what with the news about Batsy and all. She stripped out of her wet clothes and put on a bathrobe as she rummaged in the closet for something to wear to the Iceberg Lounge. She settled on a short black cocktail dress, red stilettos and a red wrap which she laid out on the bed. She walked down the hallway to the bathroom to get showered and start getting ready. Joker heard the bathroom door close and tiptoed down the hallway. He stood beside the doorway and listened.

Harley lifted the lid on the toilet and put her hand through the opening to check for plastic wrap before she sat down to do her necessary. When her weight settled onto the toilet seat she was shocked by a loud popping and crackling sound that made her jump up. She lifted the seat to see a ring of bubble wrap taped to the rim of the bowl.

"Puddin!" she growled. She could hear him chuckling in the hallway. "Creep!" She ripped the bubble wrap off, balled it up and threw it in the garbage can before finally being able to pee. She cautiously opened the shower. Nothing jumped out at her. She eyeballed the shower head. "I'm not falling for that one again."

She got on her tiptoes and unscrewed the showerhead to inspect it. Once, a few years ago he had packed the shower head full of fruit punch flavored Kool-Aid. It took almost two weeks to get all of the red stains out of her hair. She sighed in relief to see he hadn't messed with it. After her shower she slipped back into her bathrobe and began getting ready. She brushed her teeth, opening a brand new toothbrush to do so. She carefully applied her makeup, checking everything twice before using it. She combed the tangles out of her hair and pulled her hairdryer out of the vanity. She sectioned her hair, using a large round brush to pull the waves out of it and turned on the hairdryer. Within seconds both herself and the entire bathroom were coated with a thick layer of baby powder as it poured from the dryer in a cloud. She coughed and hacked having breathed in a lungful of the stuff, threw the still running hairdryer on the ground and kicked the bathroom door open.

 _"JOKER! YOU ASSHOLE! YOU BETTER START RUNNING BECAUSE YOU'RE DEAD! YOU HEAR ME?_ _ **DEAD!**_ _"_ His mad giggling came from their bedroom. She stomped towards him _. "Just wait until I get my hands on you, ya pasty faced creep! I'm gonna murderize ya!"_

As she entered the bedroom a flash went off in her face. She released a furious animalistic growl and launched herself at J, who was already fully dressed in his suit. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and used her full weight to knock him onto his back. Baby powder flew throughout the room as she started throwing punches. He was still laughing hysterically even as she gave him a right uppercut to his jaw.

" _You. Stupid. Jerk!_ " She yelled between punches. He grabbed her wrists and rolled them both over so he was lying on top of her. They were both covered from head to toe in white powder. He had a tiny stream of blood running from the corner of his mouth but he was still smiling madly.

"Oh Poo, you really know how to turn Daddy on but I don't think we have time for this right now. We have a party to get to." She was still struggling beneath him.

"Screw you J! I'm not going!" His smile spontaneously turned into a frown.

"Oh come on Harley. Where's your sense of humor? It was just a joke for chrissakes!"

"Get offa me!" He pinned her hands down on either side of her head.

"No, not until you calm down." She pursed her lips and stopped fighting him.

"Fine, now get off!"

"Look Harley, you know what happens when I get bored, and if you hadn't been off playing with the talking house plant I wouldn't have needed to find something to keep me occupied."

"That's no excuse for being a jerk!"

"Harley, I don't need an excuse to be a jerk." He deadpanned. "I would think after all these years you'd know that by now. Now I said I was only playing, so instead of being a brat why don't you go get cleaned up so we can go to my party." Harleen spoke up in Harley's mind as she glared at her lover.

 _'It's starting. This is just Joker being needy because he's feeling a loss elsewhere in his life. This is the beginning of his faulty coping mechanism kicking in. I told you to be prepared for the fallout. This will get worse before it gets better. You'll need to be on your toes.'_

She sighed and let her body relax beneath him.

"Fine Mistah J. Let me up so I can go shower… again. Should I be worried about any other surprises?" He smiled widely.

"Not immediately, no."

She rolled her eyes. He released her wrists and stood up offering her a hand. She took it and he helped her to her feet. He chuckled at her again.

"Oh Harls, you do look a sight."

"Stifle it Mistah J, before I change my mind."

She stomped off and re-showered while Joker changed into a clean suit and washed the powder off his face and from his hairline. Before long she emerged looking irritated but beautiful in her cocktail dress. He offered her his arm.

"Ready to go Poo?" She shot him a look. She was still annoyed with him for the whole powder in the hairdryer prank.

"Ready as I'm gonna be. Let's go."

They arrived at the Iceberg Lounge fashionably late. As they entered the balcony room of the lounge the gathered criminals stood, cheered and gave a raucous round of applause. J basked in the attention and adulation.

"Yes, thank you everyone. Thanks so much! Just doing my part to rid Gotham of costumed vigilantes." Penguin waddled over and greeted the two clowns.

"Joker, Harley welcome! Joker, as our guest of honor tonight you get the finest table in the house! Follow me please."

"Thanks Pengy! It's so nice of you fellas to throw me this swanky shindig. I should kill Batsy more often."

When they arrived at the table there was a bottle of their favorite champagne already uncorked and waiting to be poured as well as an expensive bottle of 50-year aged scotch. A cocktail waitress approached the table to pour their drinks. Harley downed her champagne as quickly as possible. She was going to need a little lubrication if she was going to get through this party without strangling J. She spied Harvey and Pam at a table not too far from their own.

"Pud, I'll be right back. I just want to say hi to Pam."

He was too busy talking with Scarface to even pay her any mind. Ivy could tell right away that Harley was a little out of sorts.

"You okay, my little cabbage?" She rolled her eyes.

"Red, you know I hate it when you call me that."

"That's exactly _why_ I call you that. You don't seem like yourself. Trouble in paradise?" She sat down in the booth next to Pam.

"It's started." Harvey looked at her obviously puzzled.

"What's started, Harley?" he asked.

"Mistah J coming to terms with B-man being gone, and let me tell ya, so far it royally sucks!"

She filled them in on the pranks she had to endure when she had gotten home from Pam's earlier. They both found it highly amusing. Harley looked very put out and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Some moral support you two are. Thanks a lot guys!" Pam tried wiping the smile off of her face.

"Sorry Harls, but I couldn't help but imagine what you must have looked like."

"Well, why don't you ask J to text you the pictures. I'm sure it'll be a real hoot!" She said sarcastically. She stood up from their table. "I better get back to Mistah J before I'm missed. Bye Red, bye Harv."

The rogues and mob bosses all came to their table one by one to greet and thank Joker. He received all kinds of gifts; cash, watches, bottles of expensive liquor, engraved knives among other things. He was obviously enjoying all of the attention. Toasts were made throughout the evening and by the dessert course Joker was definitely drunker than he usually tended to get. He wasn't sloppy, but if he didn't cool it on the booze soon, he would be. Harley leaned over and whispered to him.

"Mistah J, maybe you oughta slow down a little. You don't want me to have to have you carried out of here do you?"

"Oh pipe down, Harley!" he slurred. "This is my party and I'm trying to have a good time!" She shook her head as Dr. Quinzel spoke up.

 _'He's already self-medicating. You're going to have to keep an eye on that. This could be a one-time occurrence, but he's been known to go off the deep end in this way before for less than Batman's death. I suggest you keep a supply of anti-anxiety medication and anti-psychotics handy for everyone's well-being as he processes the situation.'_

The evening wound down with the boys singing a drunken round of 'For He's a Jolly Good Fellow' and another round of toasts. J was still on his feet but just barely. He certainly wouldn't be able to walk a straight line but at least she didn't have to get the henchmen in here to carry him out. Pam helped Harley gather up J's gifts as Harvey helped get a very inebriated Joker to the car. Lewis hopped out of the car and opened the rear door to help Harvey.

"Hey there boss man. Have a good time at your party?" Joker gave him a lopsided grin.

"The best Lewis!" Joker clapped Harvey on the shoulder. "Thanks for throwing me such a great bash, buddy!" Harvey answered in his deep baritone.

"It was our pleasure J. Thanks for finally killing Batman. Don't forget about the sit down next week. We need to establish the new status quo and lay out new territorial boundaries before Gotham becomes a free for all and we end up at war." Joker winked.

"Sit down. Next week. Got it." He swayed on his feet and grabbed onto the car door for support. "I think _I_ need to sit down now. Thanks again Harv! Nighty night Pammy!"

Joker practically fell into the backseat.

"Night J. Harley call us if you need us." Said Harvey. Harley winked at them.

"I will. You two crazy kids go have fun now." Pam flushed.

"We'll talk tomorrow Harl." She leaned in and whispered in Ivy's ear.

"We better, I want details." Pam slapped her on the arm.

"Behave."

"Never."

Lewis got Joker's extremities into the car and closed the door as Harley settled in beside her intoxicated boyfriend.

"You okay Mistah J?" He rolled his head in her direction. His eyes were glassy and he smelled like a brewery.

"Couldn't be better Poo. You hear them tonight? They love me!" She smirked to herself and humored him.

"That's right Puddin, and so do I."

"I impressed everyone! I killed the Batman!" He jabbed his thumb into his chest. "Me, the Joker. I was the only one who could do it."

She hid her smile behind her hand. He was rambling and it was actually kind of cute.

"That's right Puddin. I always knew you would."

"Now he's gone and everyone's happy." He went quiet for a few moments and Harley thought he may have fallen asleep until she heard him sniffle.

"Pud? You okay?"

"I'm not happy. Everyone else is happy, but _I'm_ not happy. Clowns are supposed to be happy. I feel like Paglochi… Pagi… Pachi. The sad clown from that stupid opera! That's what I feel like." Harley gazed at her lover and in the glow of the streetlights saw a single tear escape his right eye. "What if he's really gone this time? What am I supposed to do then?" He slurred drunkenly.

"We can systematically kill off his successors. Just a suggestion."

His lids were very heavy, he looked like he was struggling to keep them open. She doubted if he would remember any of this conversation in the morning.

"Where's the fun in that? It won't hurt Batsy because Batsy's gone." His jaw slackened and he stared out the window at the Bat-signal shining from the roof of the GCPD. "Batsy's gone, Harls." She reached over and gave his hand a little squeeze.

"I know Puddin, and I know what he meant to you but he's gone now and you have to come to terms with it sooner or later." He pulled his hand away from her gentle touch.

"No, I don't want to." He whined like a child. "I don't believe it. He's got to come back. He's just got to." He crossed his arms over his chest and slouched into the seat, pouting.

Lewis pulled into the alleyway next to their Ha-hacienda. Harley looked over at Joker. His chin was sagging against his chest, his eyes were closed and he was lightly snoring. She gently shook him by the shoulder.

"Pud? Puddin, you awake?" He snorted and wrinkled his nose but didn't respond. "Lewis, I'm gonna need you to help me get Mistah J to bed."

"No problem Harley. He's taking his Batman thing pretty hard, isn't he?"

Lewis opened the rear door and wrapped his arm under J's armpit and around his back to lift him out of the vehicle. Harley scooted across the back seat to help support J's other side as they removed him from the car.

"Yeah Lewis, he is. He's finally starting to come to terms with it I think."

"Jesus, I didn't realize how heavy the J-man is. Doesn't help that he's all dead weight right now. I've never seen him like this, have you?"

They struggled to get him through the back door and into the building.

"Just once, and it wasn't pretty. It was a long way back, maybe a year or two after we got together. He and Harvey had a falling out and were more or less at war with one another. J doesn't have many friends and for some reason it really affected him. I think this is going to be worse."

They managed to get J into the elevator and up to the fourth floor. They wrangled him into the bedroom and got him onto the bed.

"Thanks for your help Lewis and do me a favor will ya?"

"Just name it."

"Don't mention this to the other guys." He chuckled.

"Do I look suicidal to you, girl? My lips are sealed. You need anything else?" Harley began removing J's shoes as he snored away.

"Nah, I've got this. Have a good night Lewis."

"Later Harley."

Harley managed to get Joker at least partially undressed, covered him with a comforter and left the bedroom to seek out something chocolate. She found an open sleeve of Oreo's, poured a glass of milk and sat at the kitchen table as she mulled over her boyfriend's behavior over the past few days.

 _He's acting out but at least he's beginning to come to terms with the situation. I need to get him back on Paliperidone as soon as possible which means a trip to the Bowery tomorrow. I better get some Xanax too. I'd rather him be on prescription meds instead of him trying to self-medicate. That was a nightmare last time, especially the cocaine. He's dangerous as all get out on that shit._

She pulled an Oreo from the package and shoved it into her mouth. She chewed once, twice and screamed through a mouthful of half eaten Oreo.

 _"Fucker!"_

She spit the cookie remnants into a napkin then dumped the rest of the package onto the table. She took the chocolate top off of one and sniffed the filling. Joker had removed the frosting from the centers of all of her Oreo's and replaced it with mint toothpaste.

"Is nothing sacred?"

She sighed and thumped her head onto the tabletop. It was going to be a very long week.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer - This chapter contains violence and abuse both physical and mental. You have been warned.**

Chapter 3 – Anger

"Harrlleeeyyy! Get your ass in here!"

Harley ran down the stairs to see what J was yelling about. It was very early on Sunday, the day of the Gotham Stadium caper and Joker had been very on edge all week long. As she expected, he didn't remember their conversation in the limo the night of his party but had woken the following morning ornery and very hung over. Since then he had flipped between denial, elation and acting out in equal measure. His moods were hard to keep up with on a regular basis, but this Batman situation made it virtually impossible. Harley never knew when he would be lying in wait with some horrible new prank to torture her with and it was making her paranoid. Calls congratulating J still came in on a regular basis at which time he'd be giddy and proud of the accomplishment until realization set in afterward. That's when his moods turned dark. He had been spending more and more time alone, actually going so far as to lock himself in his office or lab so he couldn't be disturbed. What he did during that time she had no idea but he rarely emerged the same happy clown he usually was.

She had managed to get a 90-day supply of both Paliperidone and Xanax and attempted to get J to take them but he reacted violently, throwing the bottles at her head and backhanding her. He adamantly refused to take the medication and told her in no uncertain terms that if she brought it up again she would pay for it severely. She was doing her best to keep both of their spirits up by being as happy and accommodating as possible but she was beginning to think that her upbeat demeanor was doing more harm than good and just pissing him off further.

"Morning Mistah J!" she sing-songed. He glared at her.

"It's about God damn time. I need you to do inventory before I have the henchmen load all of this into the vans and you're nowhere to be found! Do you have any idea how important today is?" Her eyes widened as he screamed at her.

"Of course I do Mistah J, but it's only six AM. I was just in the kitchen making your coffee and breakfast. Which is ready by the way, if you care." She replied with her hands on her hips.

He was beginning to wear on her. He had been very verbally abusive all week and it was becoming increasingly difficult to be sunny and bubbly. He stalked over to her.

"Don't get flip with me missy!" He growled. He grabbed one of her pigtails and tugged violently yanking her head to the side. "Do I look like I have the patience to listen to your gob today?"

"Oowwww! Mistah J, I'm sorry! I'll start the inventory right now. Just, ouch, quit it."

He released her and she rubbed the painful spot on her scalp. She picked up a spiral notebook and began logging in every bomb, detonator, tool and uniform they'd be using today as J went upstairs to eat. He entered the kitchen to find a fresh mug of coffee and a plate of slightly overdone scrambled eggs, buttered toast that had obviously been burnt and scraped and crispy bacon. He sighed.

"At least she managed to get the bacon right." He sat at the table and thought about the upcoming job as he ate.

 _This is it! Today is the day my Batsy comes back to me! Everything needs to be absolutely perfect down to the smallest details. I want him to know how much I've missed him since he's been gone. A big, flashy, public and televised gag with a huge body count is just the thing to show him my love. It's funny really, it feels kind of like a first date. I'm a bundle of nerves and have butterflies in my stomach. I'm sure he feels the same way. I can't wait to see the look on his face, all grim determination, set jaw and narrowed eyes. I'm sure he's missed me too. What's Batman without the Joker after all? I'm not public enemy number one for nothing. He needs me as much as I need him. That's why he hasn't killed me. Not only that, but he's saved my life a dozen or so times. That's how I know he loves me too. He always saves me. My knight in black shining armor. I'm just bursting with anticipation! Today is going to feel like an eternity but it will be worth the wait!_

He finished his breakfast and headed back to the lab where Harley was quietly finishing the inventory. She knew why he was on edge, frankly she was too. If Bats doesn't show up tonight J may just fall apart at the seams and she'd be the one forced to pick up the pieces. It felt odd, but she prayed that Batsy was ok and showed up to foil Joker's latest gag, even if it meant another trip back to Arkham.

"So, where are we at Harley?" She glanced up at him and forced a smile onto her face.

"Almost done, Puddin. You can send the boys in whenever you're ready."

"And you know your part in all this?"

"Yessir. For both the setup and halftime. I won't let you down Pud."

"You better not. If you screw up Batsy's homecoming, it'll be your last screw up ever!"

Joker paced the lair in the hours leading up to the first stages of the job. The tension was palpable and Harley was grateful when they finally piled into the vans and headed for the stadium. The set up for this job was going to be the hard part. Yesterday the henchmen either kidnapped or killed the usual maintenance employees that worked the stadium and stole their uniforms, keys, ID tags and the vans used to move tools and supplies in and out of it. Those vans were now packed full of explosives. Their first priority, besides clearing security, was rigging the bombs. There were 350 sections in the stadium and a bomb would be placed beneath a random seat in each section. They needed to discreetly rig 350 bombs in two and a half hours before the second part of the plan could commence. That would happen at during the halftime show.

It was chilly but the clouds had cleared off which was fortunate. If the game got rained out Joker would lose his damn mind. He had put far too much into this joke of his for them to call the game due to weather. The crew toiled in the stands, carefully writing down the seat numbers each bomb was rigged to in each individual section and gave the list to Harley to prepare for halftime. For the second phase of the scheme the henchmen needed to be ready to rush the television control room and overtake the broadcast just before the halftime show began. Joker needed to be sure Batsy showed up tonight and anytime he televised a gag, Batsy came running. He supposed he just couldn't help himself. Yet another testament to the nature of their relationship.

The Gotham Knights were playing the Metropolis Tigers tonight. By kickoff the stadium was packed full of beer swilling, hot dog gobbling, painted faced sports fanatics. Joker almost couldn't stand the anticipation but did his best to hide his level of unadulterated excitement from the men. Enjoying one's work was one thing but he didn't want to seem too overeager.

The first half of the game seemed to take forever. Every time the refs threw a flag or one of the teams called a time out Joker wanted to rip his hair out. Harley sat beside him in one of the private boxes dressed in a black and yellow cheerleader outfit writing alpha-numerical numbers on little white ping pong balls and dropping them in a large bucket.

" _Get on with it already!"_

She thought at first he was talking to her until she looked up from her work to see that another penalty flag had been thrown. J hated sports to begin with and this must have been agonizing for him. He was already dressed in his costume for tonight's festivities. He was wearing black pleated pants, a black and white striped referee's shirt, a whistle and had a white NFL cap pulled down over his verdant tresses. He ran his hands down his face in frustration as he waited for the play to continue.

"There's only fifteen minutes left in the quarter Puddin. It won't be long now."

He turned and shot her a look that warned her to keep her mouth shut or there would be serious consequences. She went back to her work and tried to keep quiet as J paced and grumbled.

"Fifteen minutes in the NFL can take an hour Harls! God I _hate_ this ridiculous game. How do people find this entertaining? There's almost never any blood! Now hockey, boxing, MMA… those are sports I can get into. Lots of blood and violence, that's the kinds of sports I like. International soccer too, come to think of it. Plenty of fights in the crowds at those games. Come on, come on! Hurry it up you worthless gorillas!" He yelled at the players on the field. Finally, the quarter drew into the last five minutes. "Come on Harley, grab the balls and let's get into position."

She followed him down towards the field. When security tried to stop them Joker dosed them with a spray can of Smilex he had in his back pocket. Joe, one of their henchmen, was waiting for them with a large bingo cage. Harley poured the ping pong balls inside of it as they waited for the signal. Finally, it came. A picture of Joker's face popped up on the Jumbo Tron screens around the stadium. Joker grabbed a microphone and walked onto the field, Harley pushing the full bingo cage behind him.

"Good evening sports nuts! It's your old pal Joker, here to entertain you during the halftime festivities!" Their henchmen were stationed at each of the exits with assault rifles to stop anyone from leaving the stadium. "Now before you all go running off, I should warn you that the stadium is rigged with three hundred and fifty individual bombs. There is one in each and every section throughout the arena. If anyone attempts to leave, I press this little button here and everyone goes kaboom! Oh and to Gotham's finest, if you so much as step foot in this stadium I'll take the whole damn building down!"

He held up the master detonator. Then he turned to face one of the cameras.

"Now folks, we're going to play a little game tonight. Let me explain the rules. My lovely assistant Harley is going to draw one of these little balls. The object of the game is to _**not**_ have your number called, because if she draws your seat number…. BOOM! But on the flip side that means the rest of you in that section are safe! Now, I'm going to have Harley draw one seat number every ten minutes until Batman shows up to save you all." He looked directly into the camera. "That's right Batman, I know you're out there and if you want to save hundreds of lives, you had better make it snappy!" He plastered a huge smile across his face. "Shall we begin?"

He nodded to Harley who turned the crank on the bingo cage for a few seconds until the balls were thoroughly mixed up, opened the door and picked out one ping pong ball. She handed it to Joker. He looked at the ball and pulled out a large detonator that was fixed with a dial. He turned the dial to the appropriate seat number and prepared.

"So our first unlucky football enthusiast is…. Section 204 Row F Seat 12. Awww, sorry chum but I guess it's just not your lucky day."

He pressed the button and a blonde college freshman exploded into bloody chunks. Blood and body tissue rained upon the fans surrounding the young man. Several were severely injured by shrapnel and lay on the ground moaning in pain. Joker howled with laughter.

"Now while we wait to pull the next number how about we turn on the old kiss cam!"

The camera focused on a younger couple who were clinging onto each other for dear life. The camera hovered over them and their images popped up on all of the screens as music played through the stadium speakers.

"Come on now. You can kiss or you can die. It's up to you, folks." The terrified couple obeyed Joker's order and very quickly pressed their lips together. "You call _that_ a kiss? That was just pathetic. Think of it this way, this may just be the last kiss you ever share, so how about making it count!"

He cackled as the couple clung to each other and kissed as if they'd never see one another again. The following nine minutes were similarly spent until Joker looked at his watch.

"Okay Harley-girl, time to draw the next number!"

He blew up the second unlucky football fan and began getting impatient. He dropped the microphone to his side and hissed at Harley.

"Where the hell is he? He never takes this long!" She didn't want to state the obvious but had little choice.

"Puddin, I don't think he's coming." He glared daggers at her.

"Shut up Harley! Of course he's coming! He's just fashionably late!" He shouted. Joker paced as the countdown began again.

Shortly after the third football junkie was blown sky high a shadow fell over Joker and Harley. Above them, gliding from the roof of the stadium were Batman and Robin.

"Ha ha ha ha! See! I told you he'd come Harley! I knew he was still alive! I just knew it!" He chortled in in glee as he bounced on the balls of his feet. "Batsy, long time no see! I knew you couldn't resist me! Welcome to my little game!"

Batman and Robin landed several feet away from Joker. Batman narrowed his eyes at him before speaking in a deep gravelly baritone.

"We're calling a time out on your game Joker. You've been disqualified for unsportsmanlike conduct."

Joker stopped and stared at Batman in confusion.

"Did you just quip?" He turned and looked at his henchwench, his brows drawing together. "He just quipped, didn't he?" Harley nodded.

"Yeah, he sure did Puddin."

"Batman _doesn't_ quip. Batman swoops in from the sky and silently beats me to a bloody pulp! You're not my bat! _YOU'RE. NOT. MY. BAT!"_ He screamed furiously as he ripped off his cap and threw it violently on the ground.

Joker launched himself at the Bat-fake as Robin went for Harley. She grabbed her mallet from under the bingo cage and brandished it at the child.

"C'mon Bird-boy, bring it already. Afraid to get beaten down by a girl?" Robin punched one gloved hand into his opposite palm and smiled.

"I will thoroughly enjoy the look on your face when you realize you've had your ass handed to you by a twelve-year-old."

"Fat chance Boy Blunder!" She discreetly rubbed her heels together releasing the spring mechanisms built into the bottom of her shoes. She bounced herself up and over Batsy's sidekick. "You gotta catch me first!"

Joker and the fake Batman circled one another.

"So, which one are you anyway? Azrael, Red Hood?" He pulled two stiletto daggers from inside of his sleeves and lunged at the imposter in the bat suit. Bat-fake executed a perfect side somersault in the air and landed on his feet out of the Joker's reach. "I'd know those moves anywhere. _Nightwing_! Where is he? Where is _MY_ bat? Why did he send you, a mere boy, to do a man's job? Frankly I'm insulted he'd send the second stringers after me. _ME! THE JOKER!_ " He bellowed.

"Frankly Joker, he doesn't think you're worth his time anymore. He's grown tired of you and your pathetic jokes."

Joker growled loudly in the back of his throat and pounced on Nightwing. He brought one of the daggers down across his bicep cutting through the suit and slicing into the flesh. Nightwing winced and sucked air in painfully through his teeth. He rounded on Joker landing a solid blow to his jaw.

Harley was throwing Robin off. She was a wildcard. She knew how to distract her enemies, especially this kid. He had an ego like J's but unlike J he had a giant stick up his ass. She saw the fault in his character and used it to her advantage. She hopped about on her spring shoes.

"Boingy. Boingy. Boingy." She said with each hop.

"You don't have to make that noise you know!" Robin shouted. Harley smiled sweetly at him.

"I don't have ta, but I'm gonna! Boingy!"

Robin, for all his normal control, was obviously frustrated with the Harlequin and it made him sloppy. She bounced over his head and managed to whack him with her mallet in his right shoulder, his dominant shoulder, hard.

"Tag, you're it!"

"Damn you woman! Stop all your ridiculous bouncing and face me!"

"Na-uh Bat Brat! I'm still having fun!" Robin unsheathed his katana and held it across his body as he yelled over to Nightwing.

"Batman, can I kill her?"

Nightwing vaulted backwards away from the Joker just in time to avoid being slashed a second time by the razor sharp daggers.

"We don't kill Robin!"

"But she's annoying!"

"Robin!" The boy wonder huffed out a frustrated breath and re-sheathed his sword.

"Fine!"

Joker stopped fighting and stood facing Nightwing in the bat costume.

"I've had enough of this. You're not my Bat and you're just _no fun_." He pulled out another detonator that appeared to have a timer on it. "So here's the deal Wingnut. This here is a Mexican standoff. You have ten minutes to disable the bombs, clear the stadium or deactivate the timing device I rigged to blow this joint sky high or you can chase after me and Harley. I'll let you decide what it's gonna be." He pressed the button starting the countdown. Nightwing yelled across the field to his sidekick.

"Robin! Leave her and start evacuating everybody! I'll work on shutting down the bombs!"

Joker stood just watching the two of them for a minute in disbelief before turning, grabbing Harley roughly by her wrist and dragging her out of the stadium to one of the stolen vans. He didn't wait for any of the henchmen, but turned the key in the ignition and sped back to the lair in Chinatown. Harley could tell he was absolutely seething with rage. He stormed into the Ha-hacienda and up to his office. The room was one of the largest in the place and it allowed him a bigger area to pace when he was angry. Harley foolishly followed him.

"I can't believe it! The nerve of that two-bit Bat-fake! He thought he was good enough to face me? _ME?_ I'm the God damn Joker for chrissakes! I can't believe the audacity of that little turd! And how dare he say Batsy's grown tired of me? _I'm_ the reason Batman gets dressed up in tights and goes out there every night!" He shouted angrily. Harley knew better than to open her mouth but she just couldn't stop herself.

"Puddin, whenever _you're_ involved Batsy always comes himself. I really don't think he sent them. I think they came after you because they had no other choice or have the blood of an entire stadium on their hands. I know this is hard for you but I think you need to face the fact that B-man's really dead this time."

He froze in place, his shoulders tensing, his body strung tight and shaking with rage. He spun around to glower at her. His desk stood between them. He growled savagely, grabbed the edge of the desk and flipped it in the air. Harley flinched as it landed upside down with a loud thud at her feet.

"What did you say to me Harley?"

 _Oh fuck, I am really screwed._

"P-puddin, it's for your own good, really. The sooner you come to terms with Batsy's death th-"

He dove at her over the upturned desk, grabbing her throat and squeezing to cut off the insolence pouring out of that willful mouth of hers. His eyes had shrunken to bloodshot pinpoints and the vein in his forehead was visibly bulging as he choked her. Just as the black spots began to cloud her vision he let go and began throwing punches as he screamed and belittled her.

"Who the hell do you think you are to tell the Joker what the hell to do? I've tolerated you for years now, and why? You're useless! Worthless! Pathetic!"

He landed several devastating blows to her face and she could already feel both of her eyes swelling shut. She tried covering her face with her arms to protect herself. He pinned them above her head with one large hand and pulled one of his daggers with the other. He passed the blade in front of her face menacingly before bringing the point of it in front of one of Harley's baby blue eyes. She could feel the metal brushing against her eyelashes. She tried very hard to keep still but she was sobbing in pain and humiliation which made it very difficult to not move.

"Harley you are a miserable excuse for a sidekick, you were a woefully inadequate doctor for the whole six months you held a license, you're a weak, dim-witted, feather brained waste of space! You're not even very good in bed! I should pluck those big blue eyes right out of that empty head of yours and feed them to the hyenas!" He withdrew the dagger and stared down into her face. "Harley, you have exactly five minutes to gather your things and get the hell out of here or I will finally rid myself of you permanently!"

He stood and stared down at her with disgust as she whined and blubbered.

"M-m-mistah J. Don't d-do t-this. I l-love you and-"

"Four minutes and thirty seconds." He growled.

She knew he really meant it this time. If she didn't get the hell out of here, he would really kill her. She rolled over and weakly pushed herself up onto her knees. She stumbled as she tried to stand and had to grab onto the wall for support.

"Four minutes."

She scurried to the bedroom and blindly threw clothes, toiletries and some random belongings into a large duffel bag. He yelled up the stairs from the second floor.

"One and a half minutes!"

She located her purse, threw one of her framed pictures of her and Mr. J into it grabbed her coat and ran down the stairs. She stopped on the second floor landing to look at him through her rapidly swelling eyes.

"M-mistah J?" she squeaked.

"Thirty seconds, Harley. Now get out!" She stared at him with tears streaming down her cheeks and snot dripping from her nose silently pleading with him not to do this. "I said get out Harley. _GET THE HELL OUT!"_

She turned and ran out the door slamming it behind her. She collapsed onto her knees in the cold Gotham air, bawling. Hot, fat tears fell from her damaged eyes and she struggled to get her breath. Her whole body ached from the beating but her heart hurt even more. She felt empty inside and she released a keening wail as she heard him inside of her head telling her what a pathetic, useless waste of space she was. When she was finally capable, she went to the only place she knew to go. The door slowly swung open. Ivy stood staring at her best friend in shock.

"Oh no. Oh Harley, not again?" Harley burst into tears and found herself unable to speak as Ivy wrapped her arms around her. "Harley why do you keep letting him do this to you?" Harley shook her head in response. "Come in out of the cold and let me see to your wounds." She led Harley into her brownstone with her arm draped around her shoulders. "It's going to be okay Harls. Ivy is going to take care of you now."

 **A/N - Yes this chapter is cruel. Harley certainly doesn't deserve it but we're dealing with the topic of grief which is very psychologically complex. There is also quite a bit more going on here as will be revealed in future chapters. Grief can make people do things they would never 'normally' do. Add to that the fact that we're dealing with a murderous, batshit crazy psychopath and the results are going to multiplied tenfold.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – Reflection

After many grueling hours the new dynamic duo managed to deactivate Joker's timer, evacuate the stadium and defuse all 347 of the remaining bombs. Alfred watched as the Batmobile entered the cave and its occupants exited the vehicle. He immediately saw the blood crusted around a large slash on the new Batman's arm and quickly got to work preparing to clean and suture the wound. As Robin headed to change out of his uniform the new Batman stalked across the cave, ripping the cowl angrily from his head as he did so. The look on his face said it all but he vocalized his thoughts anyway.

"He didn't buy it for a _second_ , Alfred. Our fighting styles are too different, I'm four inches shorter than Bruce and this damn cape keeps getting in my way. How does he fight in this thing?" Alfred gave Nightwing a fatherly look.

"Please sit, Master Dick and let me see to your arm." Dick stripped to his waist and sat down heavily as Alfred began disinfecting the cut. He looked up at Alfred dejectedly.

"I'm not cut out for this Alfred. I can't go out there again pretending to be something I'm not. I never wanted this. It's why I left Wayne Manor in the first place. To find my own way, my own identity. I never wanted to be like Bruce. I never wanted to be the cold, calculating, cynical Batman!" Alfred carefully threaded a curved needle.

"And you are not like Master Bruce. You value people and personal relationships in a way Bruce was never capable. Master Dick, you don't need to try and be a carbon copy of Bruce. This is merely a role you are playing and you must play to your _strengths_."

"Alfred, Joker knew the minute we landed on that field that I wasn't _him_." Damian had stripped off his Robin costume and returned wearing jeans and a hoodie just in time to hear Dick whining.

"That's only because you _quipped_ , Grayson! You just can't help yourself can you?" Dick turned his head towards Damian as Alfred began the task of stitching up the wound on his arm.

"I'm sorry, it's force of habit! I quip. I've always quipped, it always helped me unnerve and distract my opponents. It's just one of those things I don't usually have to think about." Damian pointed his finger at Dick.

"Well you had better start thinking about it or no one else is going to believe you're really Batman either! This town has already started to fall apart since father disappeared and it's up to us to fix it. If _you're_ not up to the task, give _me_ the cape and cowl! I'd make a far superior Batman anyway. It's in my _blood,_ Grayson."

"Master Damian, I don't believe at your stature you would be any more convincing than Master Dick." He snipped the thread on the finished suture and looked Dick in the eye. "Don't doubt yourself Dick. Nothing of great value comes without hard work, dedication and determination. You just need to _practice_ your new role. May I suggest starting at street level thugs before going after the rogue's gallery, at least until you've had more time to master this grave responsibility that's been thrust upon you?" Dick hung his head.

"You're right of course, Alfred, but I couldn't let Joker blow up an entire stadium! I didn't have a choice."

"I fully agree Master Dick. It's unfortunate you had to face Joker on your first day out, but you can't let it deter you. Gotham needs a Batman and now that Batman is you." Dick shook his head.

"Yeah, but I'm not the hero Gotham needs, or deserves. We need to find Bruce. If he were really dead we'd have found a body. We all know that body the GCPD is testing isn't him. He's out there somewhere, Alfred, I can _feel_ it and the sooner we figure out where, the better. Then he can take back this stupid cowl and I can go back to being my happy, quippy old self again." Damian shot Dick an annoyed look as he rubbed his bruised shoulder.

"Tt. Quit your whining Grayson. I want to find father as much as you do, but we have a job to do in the meantime. I suggest you start by watching father's training videos. It may help you mimic his style. Secondly Grayson, you need to keep your damn feet on the ground. Batman doesn't jump around like a circus performer. It's a dead giveaway! And for the love of God, stop with the witty banter! Batman doesn't joke, quip or banter! He broods." Dick gave Alfred a pleading look.

"See, I'm not cut out for this!"

"That is quite enough, Master Dick. Self-pity will not be tolerated in this household." Alfred glanced at his watch. "It's nearly dawn, young Masters, and you both need to get to bed. We can discuss this again after you're both rested and have eaten a proper meal."

Damian rolled his eyes and bounded up the stairs towards the Manor. Alfred grabbed Dick by the shoulder and met his deep blue eyes.

"You must have faith Master Dick. Both in yourself and in the plausibility that we'll eventually find Master Bruce. I know I certainly believe in you both." He gave Dick's shoulder a squeeze.

"Thanks, Alfie. I needed to hear that."

"Now off to bed with you, young man."

"Night Alfie."

Across Gotham in East Park Side, Poison Ivy was just about finished applying her special aloe to the cuts on Harley Quinn's face.

"There we go sweetie. Before you know it you'll be good as new. You sit tight, I'm going to make you an ice pack for that eye and prepare some herbal tea to calm your nerves." Harley looked sadly at her best friend.

"Thanks Red. I'm sorry for just showing up here like this unannounced, but I didn't know where else to go."

"Oh Harley, my door is always open to you. I wish you'd get yourself out of this cycle of abuse, but you're welcome to stay as long as you need." Ivy gently caressed her unbruised cheek. "I'll be right back, okay?"

She nodded in reply. Ivy entered the kitchen leaving Harley alone with her thoughts. The injuries were actually not all that bad considering the rage that fueled the attack. Joker had given her worse beatings for less than trying to push him to face emotions he was not prepared to entertain. What was making her feel like she was dying inside were the things he said to her. Some of it was just his usual insults. He often called her stupid or worthless or pathetic and he had thrown her out on multiple occasions for minor slights, but he really went for the jugular tonight. Her chest ached and she felt completely hollowed out. She had cried so hard for so long she was physically drained. His comment about her not being good in bed bothered her the most. He had always seemed satisfied with her, had even complimented her for her skill. Did he really mean it or was he just trying to hurt her? Dr. Quinzel spoke up.

 _You know it was in your best interest for him to throw you out tonight, Harley. He has lost all control of himself and is too dangerous to be near right now. He's hit the anger stage of his grieving process, and what is underneath the anger?_ _ **Pain.**_ _You know as well as I do that Joker is not used to emotional pain. He's a textbook sociopath and as such does not feel emotions in the same way as normal people. Until this moment he's been completely immune to emotional pain. This is uncharted territory for him. You should have left him alone after the stadium to begin to process the reality of Batman's death. He's heart-broken and you know him well enough to know that when he's miserable, he's going to do his best to make you miserable. You made yourself a target, you silly girl._

 _He's feeling deserted and abandoned by someone he believes to be the only person he could ever really rely on, no matter how faulty that thinking really is. His anger is giving structure to the nothingness of the loss. You know he's not truly angry with you specifically. It's common for the bereaved to extend their anger to family, friends and acquaintances, but it's strictly a reactionary response to the pain. What he's really angry at is the injustice of what has happened to him, he's mad at himself for facilitating Batman's death, he may even be angry at God for letting this happen, not that J has ever expressed devout faith, but he does believe in heaven so it just goes to show that it's possible. He's angry for the pain and emptiness he's feeling, the helplessness and the hopelessness. All emotions he's only ever heard about before and not actually experienced firsthand._

 _Don't forget that the deeper the connection to the deceased the deeper the pain and the greater the sense of loss. You've always known you played second fiddle to Batman. He has always been Joker's first love and first priority. You knew Batman could die or disappear for good one day. What exactly did you expect to happen? That he'd throw himself in your arms, have a good cry and then it'd be business as usual? You're a smart girl, Harley. You know better._

 _Keep in mind that anger is a necessary stage of the grieving process. The more he truly feels his anger, the more it will begin to dissipate and the more he will heal. If you truly love him, give him time alone to come to terms with things, but not_ too _much time. He's highly likely to self-destruct if left to his own devices for too long. He's going to need you more than he has ever needed anyone if he's going to make it through this._

"Well what do you know? All that med school training is still good for something. Thanks for the advice, Doc!" Ivy walked into the living room to catch Harley talking to herself. She shot her a look that was part confusion and part concern.

"Harley, who are you talking to?"

She looked over to see Ivy standing in the doorway carrying a tray of steaming tea and an ice pack. She crossed the room, set the tray down and sat down next to her friend.

"Sorry Red, just talking to myself. Or an aspect of myself, I guess you'd call it." Ivy handed her the ice pack. She was worried the recent trauma had sent her off the deep end.

"What are you talking about?"

"Heh. It's the part of me I suppress so I don't feel bad when Mistah J and I do bad stuff. Dr. Harleen Quinzel. She doesn't talk a lot but when she does it's usually important." Ivy placed a hand on Harley's back, rubbing small circles against it and spoke softly.

"So essentially you're in session inside of your head when she talks to you?" Harley nodded.

"Yup, pretty much. She had a lot to say tonight. It was a productive session, I think."

"Well if your shrink-self is talking to you, I hope she's telling you to leave that sorry excuse for a human being and start working on becoming the strong, independent woman I know you can be Harley." She shook her head.

"I don't think you want to know what her advice was."

Ivy removed her hand and pursed her lips ready for the inevitable words she knew she'd hear sooner or later.

"Let me guess, she told you to go back to that sick, abusive bastard." Harley stared at a spot on the floor.

"Well not yet, no. He needs time to come to terms with Batsy first, but soon. She says he's really gonna need me to help him get through this." Ivy stood abruptly.

"I can't believe you! How many times are you going to let him use you as a punching bag before you wise up and get rid of that clown?" She raised her eyes to meet Ivy's icy gaze.

"Look, Red, _this_ was my fault." She pointed to her bruised and puffy face. "I knew better than to push him, but I did it anyway. I knew he'd react violently to this kind of news but I put myself in harm's way. I should have left him well enough alone until he was ready to talk about it. I can't blame him for what he's feeling right now. He's in pain and he's gonna need me to help him deal with it. That's what you do when you really love someone. You take the good with the bad. I can't abandon him now when he's going to need me more than he ever has before." Ivy huffed out an irritated breath and placed her hands on her hips.

"Do you have even a single ounce of self-preservation in you? He's going to kill you one day Harley! Don't you get that?"

"Look Red, I know you hate Mistah J. I know you hate that we're together and while I really, really appreciate your concern for me, I love him and I'm gonna be there for him." Ivy threw her hands in the air.

"You are absolutely impossible!" She shouted. Harley hung her head and Ivy saw tears begin running down her cheeks. "Oh sweetie, please don't cry." She sat down and embraced her friend. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell, it's just I really care about you and I'm worried about your well-being. You're my only real friend, Harley. If something were to happen to you I don't know what I'd do." Harley returned the embrace.

"I love you too Red, but I love Joker too." Ivy sighed into Harley's hair.

"I know you do. I wish you didn't and I keep hoping that one day you'll see him for what he really is. It kills me to see you bruised, battered and in tears every few months."

"I know Red, but it's just his way. Neither of us can change it and I love him too much to leave." Ivy broke the embrace. She slid the now lukewarm cup of tea over to her.

"Here, drink this before it goes cold. It will help you sleep." Harley wiped her face with the backs of her hands and picked up the mug.

"Thanks for understanding and for being such a good friend. I don't know what I'd do without you either."

"Let's just hope neither of us ever has to find out."

Back at the lair in Chinatown Joker was having a very violent meltdown. The fourth floor of the place was trashed. There were holes punched and kicked through the walls, the smaller pieces of furniture had been broken into splinters, the rest overturned and the upholstery slashed to ribbons. The windows had all been broken. He shot out the television screen and smashed the electronics. Every mirror was shattered leaving glittering shards of glass covering large sections of the floors. Joker had walked through it, glass grinding into the soles of his bare feet, and the carpets were now covered in bloody footprints.

He finally collapsed onto his knees in the middle of the bedroom from exhaustion and grief. He knelt there panting, his chest expanding and contracting far too quickly. If he wasn't careful he was bound to hyperventilate. His hands were curled into fists at his sides, his shoulders slumped and his head hung down towards the floor. He was naked from the waist up and his chest was smeared with blood, likely from his knuckles or fingertips which were still lazily oozing sanguine droplets on the floor.

He slowly raised his head, tears glittering in his eyes and on his cheeks, to look at the large Bat-symbol he had painted on the wall in his own blood.

"How could you do this to me? This wasn't part of our game, Bats! You've survived worse than what I dished out that night. Why? I want you to tell me why you didn't save yourself this time! How dare you! How dare you abandon me now? You abandoned me and left Nightwing as your pathetic excuse for a replacement!" He opened his mouth and let out a terrifying scream that sounded like a wild animal in pain.

"How am I supposed to continue on? My act needs a straight man. You can't have a great comedy duo without a straight man!" He shouted to no one but himself. He slumped to one side and rolled onto his back with his arms out to either side of his body and stared at the broken light fixture above him.

"What am I supposed to do with the rest of my life now that you're gone? There's no fun in my work without you. I'm too young to retire!" His eyes widened as he realized his life's work was suddenly over. "No more jokes. No more gags. No more smiles. No more acid cream pies. No more Smilex filled lapel flowers. No more elaborate death traps. It's all over. What's the point of trying to go on? There's no Batman without Joker. No Joker without Batman. My whole life, at least what I remember of it, has been dedicated almost solely to us. You and me. Two peas in a pod, two sides of the same coin, two nuts off the same tree. We were bookends, you and I, and now you're gone. You're really gone." His throat tightened and his vision blurred as he fought back a fresh barrage of tears.

"What am I gonna do? There's just no point to anything anymore. My life is over." He rolled onto his side and curled his body into the fetal position, wrapping his lanky arms around his torso where he stayed for the rest of the night feeling sorry for himself and trying to bear the emptiness that seemed to gnaw at his insides.

In Grant Park, located several blocks away from Gotham Towers, GCPD officer Glenn Perkins was walking his beat. The weather had turned cold and was due to get much colder overnight. Winter was almost upon them again. As he strolled through the park he came upon a homeless man sleeping under a pile of newspapers on one of the park benches. He pulled out his billy club and gently prodded the sleeping man.

"Hey buddy, wake up. Hey, come on guy you can't stay here."

The homeless man sat up and stared dazedly at the cop with his bright blue eyes. His head was covered with a dirty woolen trapper hat and his face was covered in dirt and filth. He had a short but scraggly black beard and was wearing a torn and battered winter coat that was at least three sizes too small. His torso was insulated with layers of newspapers tied around him with twine. His torn and grubby pants also appeared far too small for the man wearing them. His boots were the only thing that looked new. They were made of black leather and came up almost to the man's knees. They were heavy duty and looked expensive. He thought it odd to see boots like that on a homeless guy, but in a city like Gotham who knew what a person would throw in the trash these days.

"Look buddy, normally I wouldn't bother you, but it's going to drop below freezing tonight. There's a shelter just down the way on the corner of Church and 6th. They'll give you a hot meal and a warm bed to sleep in tonight. I need you to go on down there now. Can't have you freezing to death on my watch, ya know."

The homeless man slowly stood. The guy was huge. He towered over the cop who was five eleven. His shoulders were broad and his chest massive. He very obviously had a lot of muscle mass, this guy had to be ex-military back from the Middle East or something. His eyes were strange, he reminded the cop of soldiers who came back from war shell shocked.

"Well, you're a big fella aren't ya? Now get on down to the shelter. I don't want to see you back on the streets tonight okay guy?

"Yes sir. Thank you officer." The man replied in a very deep tone.

"You have a good night now." The cop watched as the man slowly walked towards the warmth and light of the shelter. "It's a damn shame we don't take better care of our vets in this country. Maybe I should write a letter to our legislators."

The cop shrugged and continued walking his beat not giving the homeless man another thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N – This chapter includes graphic imagery and references to drug use.**

Chapter 5 – Guilt and Depression

It had been five days since Joker threw Harley out of their hideout. So far he had not tried to contact her, which didn't come as a complete surprise. She imagined he was overwhelmed by his own problems at the moment. Her injuries had mostly healed and the bruises faded to a dull brownish yellow. After having several therapy sessions with herself she was finally back to her usual upbeat, positive, happy self, for the most part at least. She was worried about Mr. J and was getting a little anxious to get back to the hideout to check up on him. Ivy had picked up on this over the past few days and suspected Harley would be leaving her brownstone relatively soon. She was happy but twitchy and distracted, sure signs that she planned on taking off.

The two villainesses were in Ivy's kitchen putting away the groceries they had just returned with from their shopping trip together. Ivy noticed the overabundance of candy and sugary breakfast cereal Harley had purchased, yet another red flag that she was about to run back to Joker. Harley had once told her that Joker didn't eat often, which didn't shock Ivy given J's physique, but that in order to maintain his manic energy levels he tended to eat a lot of sweets. He got through the day primarily off of caffeine and sugar rushes.

"So what do want to do tonight Harley? We can watch some romantic comedies on Netflix or maybe go out to the Iceberg and mingle a bit, now that you're feeling better. What do you think?"

Harley didn't turn to meet her gaze, just continued futzing around in the cabinet as she answered over her shoulder.

"Gee, I don't know Red. I've got some stuff I gotta take care of later." Ivy rolled her eyes dramatically behind her back.

"In other words you're going back to J, aren't you?" Harley slowly turned, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Are ya mad?"

"No, I'm worried. Harley, you have no idea what you're going to be walking into over there. What if he's still crazed and homicidal?" She shrugged her shoulders.

"I dunno, but Doc Q seems to think it's time I go home and I agree with her. I at least have to check on him. If he's still off his nut, I guess I'll come back."

"I'd feel a lot better if I knew you were going armed."

"I'll bring my pop gun with me. Better?"

"No. Your pop gun only fires rubber bullets. How about bringing something lethal just in case he tries to attack you again?" Harley shook her head rapidly.

"Nuh-uh. Red, I'll be fine, really."

"When are you planning on leaving?" She bit her lip.

"Um, I called Lewis twenty minutes ago. He should be here soon." Ivy sighed.

"Fine. You better call me and let me know what the hell is going on over there." Harley bounded across the floor and gave Ivy a bear hug.

"Thanks for understanding. I will I promise!" She gave Ivy a bright smile as they both heard the sound of a car horn out front. "That'll be Lewis. I gotta run Red. Thanks again!"

Harley grabbed her shopping bags and her duffel and sprinted out to the car. She was nervous about what kind of state she'd find him in when she got there. Lewis hopped out and helped her put her bags in the trunk.

"Hey girl, you hear from J yet?"

"No Lewis, have you?" They both got into the front seat of the car.

"Not me, but I know he called some of the other guys to go over there. Must have sent them off on some big job cause I haven't heard back from them either."

"I hope he's okay Lewis. I know he's taking B-man's death pretty hard." Lewis flashed her a cockeyed grin.

"Don't worry about J-man, he's tough. I'm sure he's cool by now."

"Lewis, I _really_ hope you're right."

They made their way across town and pulled up behind the Chinese bathhouse that served as their lair.

"Do me a favor Lewis. Stay right here until I call you okay?"

"You sure you don't want me to go in with you?"

"Not until I know what we're dealing with."

She got out of the car and opened the back door with her key. The smell hit her like a freight train. Harley gagged then covered her nose and mouth with her hand. It was the smell of death and decay and it was inescapable. She took a deep breath and tried to breathe through her mouth as she cautiously entered the first floor of the lair. There were two large rooms on the first floor. The first had once been an entertainment area where old men would gather to sit, talk and enjoy the company of pretty girls. It was furnished with many couches, chairs and low tables. The other room held the baths. There were three different tubs in all. One held cool water, one warm and the last was very hot. You were supposed to soak in the super-hot water for as long as you could then get directly into the cool water, as it's supposed to be good for the skin.

As she entered the first room she saw the source of the horrible smell. Several of the henchmen were lying dead in puddles of congealed blood around the room. Some had been shot, others brutally mutilated. There was another body that she didn't recognize. He was a young black man wearing baggy pants and a hoodie. She had never seen him before in her life. The next thing she noticed was the wide array of prescription bottles and narcotics spread across the tables. She cautiously stepped around the bodies and blood to get a closer look. She saw a large bag of cocaine, a short straw and several lines of the substance already cut on a mirror next to it. She picked up the prescription bottles reading the names of the drugs out loud.

"Vicodin, Hydromorphone, Fentanyl, Klonopin, Valium and Xanax. Oh Mistah J, what are you doing to yourself?"

There was a bag of pills next to the coke that she assumed were Ecstasy or as they called it these days, Molly. She looked over at the dead guy she hadn't recognized and realized he must have been the dealer that brought all of this to J. She hoped some of this stuff was just what the guy had on him at the time and not what J had specifically asked for. She made her way across the room where she was actually met with a pleasant aroma. It reminded her of beef stew. She opened the door to the baths to investigate the source of the smell and had to swallow down a mouthful of bile when she discovered it. Ernie, one of their henchmen was floating in the hot bath. He was very obviously dead and the water was tinged a rusty color. The heat of the bath must have simmered the body for days basically turning the pool into a giant Ernie soup. She gagged again and fled up the stairs to the second floor.

There were bodies here as well. She carefully stepped over one to get to Joker's office which took up the bulk of this floor. She slowly opened the door and her heart sank as she stared in agony at a shrine dedicated to Batman. Anything and everything J had ever kept of Batsy's was in here, carefully arranged and surrounded by candles. Every newspaper clipping and photo were hung on the walls and taped to the desk. Joker had dressed one of the dead henchmen in the Batman costume he kept for giggles and duct taped him into his chair in the center of this altar he had built. She sighed heavily and shook her head. It was worse than she had imagined.

The third floor was in a similar state as the first two and she had still not found any sign of J. Finally she made it up to the fourth floor landing. She drew in a sharp breath as she opened to door. The damage was incredible. She padded down the hallway to the living room, so far this floor at least seemed free of dead bodies but there was no sign of Joker. She turned to head towards the bedroom but stopped halfway once she reached the doorway to the bathroom. Sitting in the empty claw foot bathtub was J, naked, his head hanging down. He apparently hadn't even heard her come in. On the closed toilet lid sat a half empty bottle of Jim Beam, a bloody pair of tweezers and a blood stained towel.

"Oh, Puddin. What have you done to yourself?"

He slowly raised his head to look at her. His eyes were glossy and he looked very gaunt, more so than usual. There were dark circles under his eyes and traces of blood on his upper lip. She stepped into the bathroom and saw the floor of the tub was smeared with blood as well.

"Hey Harls. I didn't think you'd be back."

She walked over to the tub and kneeled down beside it as she looked him over. He had scabs on his knuckles and knees but that's not where the blood was coming from. It appeared he was bleeding from the soles of his feet.

"What happened?"

"Oh, this?" His voice was flat and somber. He pointed to his feet. "Glass. I couldn't get it all out."

She sighed as she stood and reached beneath the vanity to fish out a bottle of rubbing alcohol, a bottle of peroxide and some cotton balls. She picked up the bottle of bourbon and set it on the sink, grabbed the tweezers and sterilized them with the alcohol as she sat down on the toilet lid.

"Lemme see." He leaned back and put his right foot up on the edge of the tub. "Jesus Christ Mistah J. You've made one hell of a mess of yourself."

She dampened a cotton ball with alcohol and cleaned the wounds he had made trying to dig out the tiny shards of glass. He hissed through his teeth. She began the lengthy task of pulling splinters of shattered mirror from his flesh. He remained silent, his head tipped back and resting on the edge of the tub as he stared at the ceiling.

"I see you decided to redecorate while I was gone. I can't say I'm a fan."

He huffed out a short bark of a laugh then winced as she dug into his foot to extract a shard that was buried deeply into his flesh. He lifted his head to look at her.

"Yeah, sorry about that Poo, but I don't really remember too much of it."

She pulled the last splinter out and poured peroxide over the entire mess. It bubbled and turned pink as it mixed with his blood. She looked up and raised her eyebrows at him.

"Well, I'm not surprised, considering that vast amounts of drugs I found downstairs." He bent his head back down and stared at the end of the tub but didn't respond. "Gimme your other foot."

He complied and remained still and quiet as she repeated the process on his other mutilated foot.

"So I noticed you had company while I was away. Out of curiosity, besides Lewis, do we have any henchmen left?"

"Oh c'mon Harls, henchmen are a dime a dozen. It doesn't matter anyway since I won't be needing them anymore." She looked up from her work.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it sounds like. What's the point of having henchmen when the only reason I ever had for doing what I do is gone? What's the point of anything anymore now that he's gone?" She dug into his foot with the tweezers a little more viciously than was actually necessary. "Ow, easy Harl!"

"I don't like this defeatist talk outta you Pud. I get that you're sad about Bats, I get that you feel a little lost right now, that's to be expected after a loss, but you're the freaking Clown Prince of Crime! You're the scariest and most notorious villain in all of Gotham, hell, in all the damn world! You never quit. You never give up. It's one of the things I've always admired about you. You'll get through this and you'll eventually move on. It's just gonna take some time Puddin." He scoffed.

"Yeah? Well that was then and this is now. _Everything_ is different now and I've got nobody to blame but me." She looked up and met his eyes.

"Is that what this is all about? You're feeling guilty?" He sat up abruptly, jerking his foot out of her hand as he did so.

"Bats is dead and I'm the one who killed him! Do you understand how that makes me feel? Do you understand that it might make me re-evaluate my life? I thought this is what I always wanted! But it's not! I want the game to continue! I want my playmate back! I need him Harley, but he's gone and it's all my fault!" he yelled.

Harley calmly grabbed the ankle of the foot she was working on and gently tugged until he let her resume her work.

"Yes Pud, I do understand. I'm a shrink, remember? But you can't just give up on everything." He sighed.

"I just don't see the point in anything anymore. Why even go on?" She slapped the bottom of his foot, hard. "Yowch! What the hell, Harl?" He glared at her with his brows drawn together. She stared back at him.

"If you want to mope around and feel sorry for yourself, go right ahead but don't expect me to feel sorry for you." She poured peroxide over his foot. "Stay put. I need to find the first aid kit." She stood and looked back down at him. It struck her again how emaciated he looked. "When's the last time you ate?" He shrugged.

"A few days ago, I guess." Her eyes traveled back to the pink smear of blood under his nose. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"And how much coke have you been doing?" He shrugged and looked guilty. "Look, we're going to talk about this, but not right now. Right now I'm going to bandage you up, get you dressed and Lewis is going to take us to the warehouse in Tri-Corner Yards. Then you're getting a hot meal, a shower and a decent night's sleep in a real bed, even if I have to sedate you and I don't expect any argument out of you! Understood?"

He cracked a half smile as she glared down at him, her lips puckered into a little moue of disappointment.

"Yes, mom."

She made a sound of annoyance in the back of her throat and went to the kitchen to see if the first aid kit was still in one piece. She found it under the sink where it belonged. She walked to the bedroom to get something for J to put on. She found a pair of boxers, sweats, a t-shirt, socks and slippers for him to wear at least until they got to the warehouse. They both kept a partial wardrobe there in case of emergency. She slathered his feet in antibiotic ointment and bandaged them then helped him out of the tub and into his clothes. He hissed as he tried to walk on his damaged feet. She couldn't recall ever seeing him so weak. She guessed he hadn't eaten anything since the day she left and she was sure the blood loss wasn't helping the situation. She put her arm around his waist and helped him to the elevator, it was obvious he wasn't making the stairs in this condition. As they got out on the first floor J sniffed the air.

"Why does it smell like beef stew over here?"

"It's not beef, Puddin. It's Ernie."

"Eeewwww. I forgot all about that. Too bad Croc is in Arkham, he'd have enjoyed a little boiled Ernie."

Harley stuck her tongue out in disgust.

"Gross. I like Croc fine, but his eating habits are just disgusting." She sat J down in a chair near the door. "Stay right here, I'm gonna get Lewis to help you to the car. I'll be right back."

As soon as she was out of the door Joker darted as quickly as he could manage over to the table, palmed the bag of cocaine and several of the prescription bottles and stuck them in the pockets of his baggy sweats. He sat back down just as Lewis came into the room. Lewis's nose wrinkled as he looked around.

"Dang J-man, you must have had one hell of a party up in here!" He pointed to one of the dead henchmen. "This shit right here makes me glad I'm the designated driver though." He chuckled.

"Yes Lewis, apparently I did hang the cats out to dry." Lewis helped J up.

"C'mon boss, let's get you outta here. It smells like shit in here. Shit and beef stew."

Joker threw his head back and chortled. Harley heard him from the doorway and smiled. If he could still laugh, he'd eventually be okay. She was almost sure of it although she suspected it might be some time before he was back to his old self again.

They didn't talk much during the ride from Chinatown to Tri-Corner yards. Joker was exhausted and dozed for most of the drive. Harley had Lewis hop out at Smiling Buddha and get them some take-out. As he got back into the car with the food Joker woke up and his stomach growled loudly and he suddenly realized how incredibly hungry he was. When they reached the warehouse the first order of business was food. Joker dove into the Chinese take-out, wolfing down large forkfuls and washing it down with cold Zesti.

"Slow down Pud. You're gonna make yourself sick."

"Sorry Poo, I'm just starving."

"I bet. You've had to have lost at least five pounds since I saw you last. You can't afford to lose that kind of weight. You're too skinny as it is." She was fairly sure the coke had a lot to do with that.

They finished their meal and since J was having a hard time getting around on his wounded feet she decided to run him a bath instead of a shower. As she busied herself, J stashed the drugs he had in his pockets inside of the pocket of one of his suit coats in his wardrobe. If Harley found it he had no doubt there'd be hell to pay. He was feeling okay at the moment but he knew sooner or later the darkness was going to drag him down again and he was going to need something to take the edge off.

"Your bath is ready Pud. C'mon I'll help you." She helped him out of his clothes and into the hot water. He sighed as his tense muscles finally began to relax. Harley sat on the edge of the tub, squeezed shampoo into her hand and gently massaged it into his scalp. "You scared me you know. The night of the stadium bombing, I mean."

"I know Pumpkin but I needed you not to be near me or I don't know what would have happened."

"You said some pretty horrible things to me, you know."

"I know, but it was the only thing I could think of to keep you away for a while. If it makes any difference, I didn't mean it Harley." He heard her sniffle and he grabbed her hand as he turned to meet her big blue eyes.

"You sure? I mean if you said it you must have thought about it at some point, right?"

"Not at all Pumpkin. I tried to think of the thing that would hurt you the most to get you out of there. I could have _really_ hurt you if you'd stayed. I lost myself for a while there."

"Well you succeeded." She said as a tear rolled down one cheek.

"Daddy's sorry, Poohbear. Really." She nodded her head.

"Okay. Apology accepted." He let go of her hand and she used it to brush her tears away.

By the time he was finished in the bath it was late in the evening. Harley entered the bedroom carrying a glass of water and a small pill.

"Here Mistah J, I need you to take this."

"What is it?"

"Ambien. You need a good solid night's sleep. You look like a stiff wind would blow you over right now." He rolled his eyes but took the pill washing it down with the water. He pulled back the duvet and settled into his usual side of the bed. "Okay, goodnight Mistah J." She turned to leave the room.

"Harley." She turned back to look at him.

"Yeah Pud?" He lifted her side of the covers.

"Stay with me. Please?"

She smiled both inside and out. She wasn't sure exactly how he was feeling and since he had made no previous move to be affectionate in any way she had figured he wanted to be left alone. She had missed his warmth next to her in bed the entire time she was at Ivy's. She slipped between the sheets and turned onto her side to look at him. He still looked sad, she could see it in his eyes.

"You okay Puddin?" He sighed.

"No Harls, I'm not." He slid his arms around her drawing her close to his chest. "But this is helping a little." Doctor Quinzel chimed in.

 _This is a good sign. His being able to take comfort in another person indicates that at least some of his coping mechanisms are working correctly. It's a sign that he'll make it through this in time._

Harley raised her eyes to his.

"Just remember that I love you Puddin, no matter what, and I'll always be here when you need me."

He didn't answer her in words, instead pressing his lips to hers. He enjoyed the feel of her body against his, the softness of her lips the sweet scent of her shampoo. He took his comfort in her that night and before dropping off to sleep satiated, found himself thinking how grateful he was to have her in his life.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – Depression & Bargaining

For the next couple of days Joker was despondent. Now that they were at the warehouse in Tri-Corner and he had a real bed that wasn't slashed to bits he had been sleeping a lot. It was too much sleep for a regular person, for him it was unheard of. When he was awake he was restless, but couldn't seem to muster the energy to really do much of anything. There had been no violent outbursts, no arguing, no insults and no sign of his normally manic behavior. In fact, it was becoming increasingly rare for him to even engage her in conversation. It was not normal and was really starting to worry Harley. She had been urging him to start new projects but so far the few times he actually went into his office, his time was spent staring out the window at the Bat-symbol that was still being lit every night. She needed to find something to cheer him up and get him back in the swing of things. She had an idea but she'd have to go out under the cover of darkness to put it into action. She snuck her costume out of the bedroom while J was sleeping and hid it in the linen closet where she could access it later without J getting suspicious.

Joker was currently in the bedroom, not sleeping, but sprawled on his back across the bed staring blankly at the ceiling and trying to figure out what on earth to do with himself. Had Harley not been constantly up his ass for the past few days he would have gotten into the cocaine he had hidden in his wardrobe. It was the one thing that _almost_ made him feel like his old self again. There was a lot Harley would tolerate, she didn't freak out if he drank or took a few pills but she hated it when he did harder drugs, particularly coke. If he recalled correctly, although he was pretty high at the time so it was kind of fuzzy, he had beaten her pretty badly during that period of time when he and Harvey were on the outs and warring with one another.

He wanted to find something to keep himself occupied but he just didn't enjoy anything that used to make him happy. He'd tried finding a new hobby. Jigsaw puzzles just aggravated him, they took too long and there was always one piece missing by the time he was nearly finished. He had tried drawing, but he always seemed to draw the same things, Bats, dead Robins, Bat-symbols and Batmobile's. It merely served to depress him further so he gave it up. Harley had tried to get him to exercise with her in the mornings and although he knew he should, he just couldn't seem to bring himself to do anything about it. He'd even gone so far as to take one of Harley's suggestions and tried to learn more about the internet and social media. That lasted about thirty minutes before he became disgusted with it and closed the laptop. He sighed heavily and sat up. The clock by the bed read one PM. His stomach growled and he realized he hadn't eaten since yesterday afternoon. At least it would kill a little time.

He slowly made his way down the hallway, feet dragging and posture hunched, until he got to the kitchen. The place was quiet and there was no sign of Harley anywhere. He walked to the fridge to rummage around for something to eat when he saw the note tacked to the freezer with an Arkham Asylum magnet.

Puddin, Have to run a few errands. Be home later. Love, Harley

"Figures, I'm so bored I actually _wanted_ to talk to the ditzy twit for a change and she's not even here. Story of my life these days! I get no respect, I tell ya. None at all."

He rummaged in the fridge and settled on a slice of cold pizza to take the edge off of his hunger. Then left to his own devices he first paced the place. Once he was bored with that he slumped onto the couch, staring at the blackened TV screen. He knew it wasn't going to hold his attention and if there were any news reports on Bats it may just set him off again so he didn't even bother picking up the remote. He eyeballed the wet bar at the other end of the room. Harley wouldn't be happy with him, but he needed _something_ to get him through the day. He was pleasantly surprised to discover an unopened bottle of Maker's Mark whiskey. He peeled off the wax seal, uncorked the bottle and poured himself half a glass. He took a swig and enjoyed the burn as the liquid coated his throat. He sighed as he swirled the liquid around the glass.

"Is this what my life has come to? I've become a bored, depressed, day drinking clown? Something's gotta give." He set the glass down on the coffee table. He looked up at the ceiling and decided having a conversation with God couldn't hurt. "Listen, big guy. I know you and I haven't necessarily been on the best of terms. I get that some of my 'activities' have probably given you agita over the years, but can we make a deal? Look I'm no good without my Batsy, you can obviously see that right? So how about you bring Bats back and I'll….. no, that won't work, if you bring Batsy back I'll need to do _that_. Um, okay how about this, you bring back Bats and I promise to never go after the Gordon's again. Huh? What do ya think? Not big enough? Ok, you bring back Bats and I won't kill anyone for an entire year. Whaddya say old buddy, old pal?"

He wasn't really expecting an answer, but he found himself thinking a sign of some kind would have been nice. He sighed again and picked up his whiskey and stared at it as he swirled the glass.

"I guess it's just you and me until Harley gets back."

At the same time, across town, Dr. Leslie Thompkins was just getting to the Martha Wayne Community Home. The Martha Wayne Community Home was a homeless shelter down on Church Street funded by the Wayne Foundation. Leslie was there to see an old colleague, Justine Cole, who had asked if she could have a look at one of their current 'guests'. She entered the front door to the shelter and spotted her across the room. Justine saw Leslie enter and met her halfway across the vast space.

"Leslie. Thanks so much for coming on such short notice."

"It's no problem at all Justine. Who's the patient?"

"He's back in our medical bay. We don't know who he is. It seems _he_ doesn't know who he is. We've been calling him John for lack of anything better. The thing is, Leslie, he seems so familiar but I just can't put my finger on why."

"He's suffering amnesia of some kind?"

"Apparently. He's young, approximately late thirties to early forties. Due to the extent of the scarring on his body I have to guess this fella was in the military and obviously saw active combat. I think he might be suffering severe PTSD."

Justine led Leslie into the small medical bay. The man had his back turned to her.

"Leslie I have a few things I need to see to, will you be okay on your own?"

"Of course. I'll let you know my diagnosis when I've finished the examination."

Justine left the room. Leslie cleared her throat as she approached the young man, she didn't want to startle him.

"John, my name is Dr. Thompkins and I'm here to examine you." She came around to face the man and blanched. "Oh my God. Bruce?" He blinked at her in incomprehension. "Bruce, do you know who I am?"

He shook his head as he stared blankly at the kind looking old woman with the gray hair and light blue eyes. She grabbed a towel, ran it under warm water and wrung it out. She needed to be sure it really was Bruce which meant cleaning off the caked on dirt and grime from his face.

"Bruce I need to get you cleaned up a little. I'm not going to hurt you okay? Will you allow me to help you?"

The man nodded. She carefully removed the hat from his head revealing his jet black hair and set it aside. She slowly washed the filth from his face to reveal the adult face of a boy who once clung to her in tears having just witnessed the brutal murder of his parents in Crime Alley over thirty years prior.

"Oh Bruce. What happened to you?" He stared at her blankly. "Don't worry Bruce. I'm calling your family." She pulled out her cell phone.

"Wayne Manor."

"Alfred! It's Leslie."

"Doctor Thompkins, how lovely to hear from you. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Alfred I need you to get down here to the Martha Wayne Community Home right away!"

"What on earth is wrong, Leslie?"

"I found Bruce." There were a few moments of stunned silence on the other end. "Alfred, are you there?"

"Yes, terribly sorry Dr. Thompkins. You just gave me a bit of a start. Dick and I will be there directly! Thank you, Leslie. You have no idea how relived I am."

"Alfred just be prepared. He doesn't know who I am, or who he is for that matter. I'll stay with him until you both get here. Hurry."

Dick and Alfred sped from the Palisades all the way to the shelter. While she waited for them to arrive Leslie filled Justine in, leaving out as much information as possible to protect Bruce's identity.

"What do you mean, you found his family?" Asked Justine, puzzled.

"Justine, I know this man. I've treated him since he was a child."

"Then who is he?" Leslie shook her head.

"I can't tell you that. Let's just say he is someone very important whose identity must be protected at all costs. I wish I could tell you more, but I can't. Just know he'll be going home in just a little while. I hate to ask you to do this but can we have the room to ourselves until after the family leaves?"

"Yes of course, Leslie. Whatever you need."

Leslie cleared the room just in time for Alfred and Dick to arrive. They dashed to the medical bay and stood staring in shock at a very disheveled and confused Bruce Wayne. Alfred's posture loosened with relief as he gazed at the man that he loved as if he were his own son.

"Thank God, Master Bruce." The old man grasped Bruce's shoulders as he examined the details of his face. "I prayed, we'd find you. I asked God to spare you and guide you home to us and here you are! I am so very relieved." His eyes were becoming watery with unshed tears.

"Bruce? Do you know who we are?" Asked Dick. Bruce shook his head. He had no idea who any of these people were but they did seem vaguely familiar, as if he'd met them in a dream. "Leslie, will you come back to the Manor with us? I think we're going to need your help on this one."

"Of course, Dick. Let's get him to the car."

In Tri-Corner Yards, dusk was falling and Harley was just getting in from running errands and doing the weekly shopping. She entered the kitchen and dropped the groceries on the table, then went to go find Joker to check up on him. She immediately saw the half empty bottle of whiskey on the coffee table in the living room and sighed. She walked to the bedroom to find J snoring loudly, which indicated he had definitely had too much to drink. He'd likely be out for hours, which actually worked out well. She wouldn't have to sneak out of the house now to accomplish her mission. After putting the groceries away, Harley changed into her costume and clown white makeup and headed out into the Gotham night.

Joker was just stirring from his extended whiskey induced nap. He glanced at the clock, it was just after nine in the evening. He should probably go find Harley, but his head was pounding slightly and he just didn't feel like getting up, so instead he rolled onto his side and pulled the sheet over his head instead. He had just started dozing again when he was suddenly pounced on. He jumped in shock as Harley's shrill voice brought him to full consciousness.

"Get up Puddin!" He stared at her in the semi-darkness.

"What the hell are you doing in costume, Harley?" She smiled broadly, her eyes twinkling.

"C'mon Pud, ya gotta get up and get dressed. I gotcha a present! Come see, come see!" Her body was straddled over his, her hands on either side of his head and she bounced on them, shaking the entire mattress. He pursed his lips and looked at her through narrowed eyes.

"Harley! What the hell is the matter with you? Can't you see I'm sleeping here?"

"Awww, whatever, Mistah J. You do nothing but sleep anymore. Get up, get up, get up! I got something to cheer ya up!" He released a heavy breath.

"Fine! Just quit it with the bouncing already, Daddy has a headache." She leaned over and kissed his nose.

"I'll get ya some aspirin while you get dressed."

He put on a pair of black sweats and a green tee shirt wondering what in the world had gotten into his girlfriend. She was in the kitchen sitting on the counter in her harlequin suit holding two aspirin in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

"Here Mistah J, for your hangover." He glared at her as he grabbed the pills.

"I'm not hungover, I just have a headache." She rolled her eyes but continued smiling.

"Sure, if you say so Mistah J. The half bottle of whiskey has absolutely _nothing_ to do with your headache." She replied still smiling widely. Once he downed the pills she hopped off the counter and grabbed his hand. "C'mon Pud, it's this way."

She dragged him out of their living space and down the stairs into the warehouse. As they descended the stairs he couldn't help but notice how great her ass looked in her uniform. It had been weeks since he'd seen her in costume and he had to admit it stirred a very mild longing in him.

"Harley, where are we going? What are you up to?" She flashed him a mischievous grin.

"You'll see!"

She led him to the very back of the warehouse where he kept a private, soundproofed room that he used primarily for interrogation and the occasional impromptu torture session. She stood in front of the steel door posed like a game show model. She turned the knob and slowly opened the door. He peered in as she shouted.

"Ta daa!" He turned and looked at her in confusion then back into the room. "Come in and check it out!" She walked to the large table in the center of the space. Strapped to this was a middle aged white man, dressed in a white button down and navy blue dress pants. "Puddin, say hello to Phil. Phil meet the Joker." Tears began to form in the man's eyes and he began screaming beneath the duct tape covering his mouth.

"Harley, I don't understand. What's this all about?"

"Well Pud, you've tried some new hobbies and so far nothing's cheered you up, so I got you a new toy to play with. Once you realize you can still have fun witho-, I mean by yourself, it should help you get back into the swing of things Pud."

"Harls, while this is a nice gesture and I appreciate you for thinking of it, I just don't feel like killing anyone right now." She waggled her index finger at him.

"Nu-uh Mistah J, look. I laid out all of your favorite tools." She motioned to an adjacent table. "A wide array of knives, razors and scalpels are at your disposal. Bone saw, circular saw, reciprocating saw, power drill, nail gun, belt sander, files, wire cutters, bolt cutters and an array of different sized chainsaws. I hooked up the car batteries and the alligator clips, both the nipple size and the big boys. I even brought down anything you might need for waterboarding Pud. Not only that, but look over here." She brought him to another table. "I made you a nice mix of music to get you in the mood." She held up an MP3 player attached to a small speaker. "Plus I made sure you have plenty of cold water and snacks." He looked at his moll in awe. She really had thought of everything.

"Well this is all very sweet, Poo. But-" She screwed up her face and put her hands on her hips.

"No buts, Mistah J. I went through a lot of trouble to set this all up for you. You need this, Pud. I expect you to get to work and you had better take the time to enjoy yourself or I'm really gonna be pissed. Got it?" He couldn't help but chuckle at her.

"Okay Poo. Out of curiosity, where'd you get the guy?"

"Ah, he's just a white collar John who was trying to pick up a working girl. I car jacked him." He leaned down and gave her a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks Pumpkin. I'll do my best to try to have a good time, but no guarantees."

"As long as you give it a try, I'll be satisfied. I'll leave you to it. Have fun Pud!" She left him alone with Phil.

"Sorry about this fella, but you heard the lady. If I turn my nose up at her gift I'll be in the doghouse and believe me when I tell you that's not a fun place to be where my Harley-girl is concerned. If it makes you feel any better, my heart really isn't in this."

The captive struggled against his bonds and yelled incomprehensively under the duct tape on his mouth. Joker walked over the MP3 player and hit the play button. The room filled with the sound of Stealers Wheel, Stuck in the Middle with You.

 _Hmmm… she did a really good job. It's a shame I'm just not really in the mood right now. I know exactly how I could_ get _into the mood but I'd have to sneak it past Harley. I'd hate to waste a perfectly good hostage after all. Meh, it's worth taking the chance._

"Hey there buddy. I gotta run and grab something from upstairs, you just relax and I'll be right back."

The captive screamed behind his gag as J headed back up to the lair. As the door opened Harley turned with a frown and stared at Joker.

"Puddin, what are you doing? It hasn't even been five minutes yet!"

"Sorry Poo, I just need a few more pieces of equipment from the other room. Your gift has rather inspired me." She smiled in pride. See it was working already!

"Okay Mistah J. I'm hopping in the shower, so you go have fun now."

He entered the bedroom and opened the wardrobe. He fished the bag of cocaine out of its hiding place and stuffed it in his pocket, then grabbed his favorite knife, a pair of pliers and some twine and headed back downstairs for several hours where, after a few of lines of coke, he actually managed to enjoy himself for the first time in weeks.

Once he had thoroughly exhausted the usefulness of his gift, he finally helped Phil shuffle off his mortal coil by using an axe to separate his head from his shoulders. Then he decided to celebrate with just one more line of coke. He was covered head to toe in Phil's blood and as he listened to Queen preforming We Will Rock you on the mix Harley had made him he realized he was feeling a little… _anxious_. He wiped the sweat from his brow and headed back up to the lair. Harley was just coming out of the bedroom as he walked in the door.

"Hey Pud! So how did it go?" He smiled wickedly at her.

"It was quite a treat Pumpkin. I'd very much like to thank you for thinking of it." The look in his eyes was predatory.

He advanced on her and before she could open her mouth again he had her pressed against the hallway wall, his hands pinning hers above her head, tongue plundering her mouth, his long body pressed against her. She could feel his obvious excitement as his swollen member pressed against her belly. She moaned into his mouth. It had been at least a week since he'd touched her intimately. He broke the kiss and covered her mouth with his hand.

"Harley, Daddy is going to have his way with you now and I need you to keep quiet. If you speak I will gag you, understood?"

She smiled behind his hand and nodded. He was obviously in an aggressive mood. This was shaping up to be a good night. He turned her towards the bedroom and marched her inside where the two clowns indulged in some very sick fantasies for quite a few hours until J eventually came down from the drugs and collapsed on top of her panting and sweating. He looked at Harley. She was smiling widely, her hair tousled and her eyelids half closed. As he gazed at her he realized that this was the best he had felt since Batsy's death. A little coke, some mutilation and several hours of natural endorphin release seemed to do the trick. If he could keep this up, he was pretty sure he'd be able to get over the emptiness he felt over Bats.

Harley was thinking something similar and the thought of the possibility of more sex made her smile even more widely. She would not be smiling for long.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N – This chapter is sexually graphic and includes some non-consensual scenarios.**

Chapter 7 – Filling the Hole

Harley knew there was something wrong. She was aware of it even before she was subjected to her current uncomfortable position. He was too manic, too hostile and as her present predicament indicated, he was clearly far too sexually aggressive. It had been going on like this for days. At first she hadn't minded. Any attention from J she could get she usually savored, but she had allowed things to get out of hand. She would have liked to be able to voice these thoughts but the ball gag strapped around her head prevented her from saying anything at the moment. At least her arms had finally stopped screaming in agony and had finally gone numb. Joker had her bent over a bondage horse, her torso and ankles secured to it with thick leather straps. Her arms were tied behind her and were being wrenched upward towards a ring in the ceiling to which her bonds attached. She was blindfolded and gagged and was currently being brutalized from behind by a very overzealous Joker. This was the fifth time already today that he'd fucked her and she was well aware at this point that her pleasure had absolutely nothing to do with the current state of things. He was basically just using her as a receptacle for his own masturbation. She was sore and her body had stopped producing fluids hours ago. She wasn't ready for his current assault and as he entered her raw vagina again she screamed beneath the gag. She struggled as tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt him slow his thrusting. He leaned over her bare back, his lips millimeters from her ear.

"What's the matter cupcake? Are you trying to tell me your pussy's sore? Do you want Daddy to stop?" He sneered fiendishly.

She rapidly nodded her head. Suddenly she felt him withdraw from her. Normally she enjoyed using a blindfold in bed but today was a different story. He was purposely trying to be cruel to her and today the blindfold was being used more as a form of torture than of pleasure. He moved so silently she couldn't get a bead on where in the room he was until she heard the distinct sound of him sniffing a line of coke. She freaking knew it! Up until now he must have been hiding it but today he was apparently so high he'd gone beyond the realm of caring what she thought. She tried to yell at him under the gag but it was no use. She turned her head to the right as she felt a breeze brush past her. She listened but still couldn't pinpoint where he was. She jumped as she felt his hands grab her buttocks and begin to knead the flesh.

"Harley, Harley, Harley. I know you must be a little sore so I'll tell you what, I'll give your poor, swollen pussy a little break." She felt him lightly run his fingertips over the battered flesh of her nether lips. "But Harley, Daddy still has needs." She felt the hardness of his shaft press against her left ass cheek. "So we'll just have to improvise."

She heard him spit into his palm and moments later she felt the tip of his penis probing her asshole. She struggled against her bonds. It wasn't that they had never had anal sex before, they had, and in the right atmosphere it could be quite enjoyable. But today she was tense, dehydrated and simply not ready for it which meant it was really going to hurt. He paid no mind to her protestations but began slowly pushing his way through the tight outer ring of muscle. She was clenched tightly, as if that was going to keep him out. He chuckled meanly.

"Harley, the more you fight me, the more it's going to hurt you. So relax, baby, and enjoy the ride."

He pressed forward more forcefully and finally he was able to get the head of his cock inside of her. She screamed under the gag as he slowly pushed himself more deeply into her ass. She was dry and it burned her insides as she felt him plunge inside of her, inch by agonizing inch. Finally, he stopped moving forward as she felt his balls resting against the tender flesh of her labia. He moaned as she involuntarily clenched her muscles down on his cock.

"Jesus Christ, Harley. You're so fucking tight."

He slowly pulled his length completely back out of her then repeated the process. Harley stopped struggling, but tears slowly dripped down her cheeks. He was right, the more she struggled the more it was going to hurt so she tried her best to lie still as he began to thrust. The first three minutes were the worst. The lack of lubrication was horrible and it felt as if he were tearing her apart from the inside but eventually her body began producing at least a meager amount of natural fluids, easing his entry and alleviating the worst of the pain. He quickly increased his pace, slamming into her as forcefully as he could manage, his balls slapping against her pussy as he ravaged her. She could hear him growling in the back of his throat as he plundered her asshole. She thought it would never end as he continued his assault on her, but finally she heard him grunt as he slammed forcefully into her one last time. She felt his body stiffen and felt the throbbing of his cock deep within her as he came inside of her. She had thought he would pull out but once he climaxed he went right back to pumping himself inside of her and she could feel him hardening again. She whimpered. She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take. As he began to thrust a violent banging came from the outer door of the lair. He tried to ignore it and continue fucking Harley but he had sent the henchmen away for the day and eventually the incessant banging threw his concentration and he lost his erection mid-stroke.

"God damn it!" He growled. "You get in the mood and suddenly company shows up!" She could hear him putting on his bathrobe. She yelled in protest. She wanted him to untie her already. "No-no, Harley-girl. Daddy's not done with you yet. You just stay right there."

He noticed her hands looked like they were beginning to lose circulation so he loosened the slack on her arms before he went to see who the hell was disturbing him at this hour. As he walked down the stairs towards the door his right nostril began leaking a steady trickle of blood down his face.

"Ah, shit! Perfect timing for a nosebleed."

He grabbed a rag off of one of the tables pressing it against his nose and looked out the peephole. Harvey was standing outside of his door looking very annoyed. Joker swung the door open and Two-Face strode inside the warehouse. He spun and glared at J.

"What the hell J? Where the hell were you?" He yelled in his deep gravelly baritone. Joker raised an eyebrow.

"Well you're not Harvey at all. Hey there Twoey, long time no see. Ya know I was really right in the middle of something when you decided to stop by unannounced."

"Shut it clown, just answer he damn question!" Joker pulled the towel away from his nose and it seemed he had stopped bleeding already. He tossed it aside before answering.

"I'm not sure what you're referring to Two-Face. Where was I meant to be?" Two-Face slapped his hand down his face in frustration.

"The god damn sit down, J! You skipped out and now there's a power vacuum developing! The smaller families are already fighting one another and if you don't get your head out of your ass and take control of your business you stand to lose it. The last thing we need is another war on our hands." Joker shrugged.

"Why didn't you just call me?"

"I did asshole! I've been trying to reach you since last Thursday!"

"Oh, sorry about that Twoey, I forgot that I have been incommunicado. Smashed my phone. Heh." Two-Face scowled at J.

"Well get a fucking new one. We need another sit down, and you had better be there this time. Us Rogues have to stick together, J. We need a show of force and for that we need you. You always know just how to pull the rug out from under everyone." Joker's lips quirked over to one side.

"Yeahhhhh, about that. Um, bad news buddy. I kinda have scheme block right now."

"What the hell is that?"

"I'm just not feeling inspired. I haven't been able to come up with a new gag or scheme in weeks. I don't know what's come over me."

"Well you need to hurry up and get over it J, because it looks like for the first time in a long time the Maroni's and Falcone's are working together to de-throne the Clown Prince of Crime. Word has gotten out about your little meltdown J, and the families see you as weak. They think right now that you're easy pickings. Everyone knows you hold the lion's share of Gotham. You're making yourself a target."

"How the hell did anybody find out?" J screamed.

"You killed one of Black Mask's dealers, you idiot! They sent someone to ask around about him and discovered the mess you left. Oh, by the way, Black Mask is pissed and is requesting restitution for the kid you kackked."

"Oh I knew Roman would get his panties in a bunch over that if he found out. Fine, how much is he asking for?"

"$250k."

"Is he out of his friggin mind? $250 for a street dealer?"

"Told you, J. Easy pickings." Joker scoffed.

"Fine. When do we have the next sit down?"

"How long will it take you to come up with something?" J shook his head.

"I don't know. A week at least."

"Fine, I'll put out the word that you're calling the sit down for next Friday. Make sure you bring Harley too. People are either scared of her or covet her, either way she adds to your mystique. Where is Harley anyway." Joker just realized he'd had her tied up in the bedroom alone for the past thirty minutes.

"Shit, she's gonna kill me. Harv, hate to do this to ya, but you've gotta go now. Things around here are about to get ugly."

Two-Face wasted no time, he had no interest in witnessing a Joker/Harley domestic.

"Later J. Next Friday, don't forget!"

The door closed and J ran up the stairs to untie his very pissed off girlfriend. He released her arms first which may have been a mistake because she was able to rip the gag off.

"You pasty faced sonofabitch! How dare you leave me tied up like this?"

She ripped off the blindfold as he released her ankles. She kicked backwards the moment she was free and the heel of her stiletto caught him squarely in the nuts. Joker cradled his damaged testicles and went down on his knees with a groan. She managed to free herself from the remainder of the bonds, stood and punched J in the face.

"You _ASSHOLE!_ You've been doing coke behind my back? What else have you been lying to me about?"

She turned and walked into the closet to change clothing and pack an overnight bag. Once he was actually able to speak again he squeaked out an answer as he continued clutching his sack.

"Nothing Pumpkin, I promise." He watched as she emerged dressed in jeans and a sweater with a duffel bag over her shoulder. "Where are you going?"

"None of your damn business Mistah J! And for future reference, ball gag or not, no means no!"

She slapped him across the face, hard, and stormed out of the hideout. He rubbed the red hand mark on his face as he watched her stomp across the warehouse slamming the door behind her. He sighed, when it rains it pours.

Across town in the Palisades Doctor Leslie Thompson had just finished a thorough examination and battery of tests on Bruce Wayne. The family waited on edge as she prepared her diagnosis. She flipped through her notebook and addressed Alfred, Dick and Damian.

"So I have reviewed the test results thoroughly and I can attest that there is no underlying neurological condition that's contributing to Bruce's memory loss. That leaves us with a rare form of transient global amnesia. As such there's just no telling when he'll snap out of it or what might bring his memory back around. We'll just have to monitor him and be patient." Dick wrung his hands.

"Leslie, that's not good enough. We need Bruce back. Gotham needs its real Batman back. The families are already close to war!" She shook her head.

"I'm sorry Dick, I know that's not what you wanted to hear but it's the truth. He could snap out of this tomorrow or a year from now. There's nothing you can do to speed up his recovery, I'm sorry to say."

"Yes, well thank you for your expert opinion Doctor Thompson. We truly appreciate your time and effort." Said a sad looking Alfred Pennyworth.

Bruce was currently sedated in his bedroom. Once safely home, Alfred had gotten him showered and shaven, dressed and settled back into his own room before meeting with Dr. Thompson.

"I'll be back by tomorrow to check up on him. Call me if there's any change."

She turned towards the door and Alfred escorted her to her vehicle as Dick paced the cave. Damian watched him idly as he fiddled with his IPod.

"There has to be something we can do to jog his memory."

"Tt. Stop your crying Grayson. Gotham doesn't need a neurotic Batman so you need to get a grip. Until father recovers _we're_ Batman and Robin whether you like it or not."

"I know, I know Damian. I'll do the job until he's recovered but the sooner that is the better. Surely something will help him remember who he is. I'm going to go find the old photo albums. You coming Dami?"

"Tt. Why not. At least I can chuckle at you in your booty shorts and pixie boots."

"Hey don't knock the pixie boots, they were totally groovy back in my day."

"Tt."

Ivy peered out the peephole to see her best friend standing there. She opened the door and waved her inside.

"Harley, what are you doing out at this hour?"

"Hoping I can crash here tonight."

Ivy scanned Harley's face and body. She seemed okay, which was unusual. Usually if Harley came to crash she was beaten half to death and bawling hysterically.

"Of course you can Harls. Mind if I ask what happened this time?" Ivy noticed the odd way Harley was walking. "What the hell did he do to you?"

Harley went on to explain about what had been happening with Joker since she had left Ivy's. She explained the state of the hideout when she got there, the state of J, the shrine, the depression, the drugs and alcohol.

"Yeah Red, so apparently he's been doing a ton of coke behind my back which makes him do some pretty unusual shit."

"So why are you walking funny?"

"Coke makes him horny and very sexually aggressive, almost predatory. Ridiculously so. He about banged me raw over the past few days." Ivy chuckled.

"I'm surprised you're complaining."

"Yeah well, he took it too far tonight. Left me tied up by myself for a half hour while Harvey was over! I thought I was going to lose circulation in my hands." Ivy noticed the bruising around her wrists. "Worst of all he took my ability to consent away by gagging me and ignored me when tried telling him no." Ivy's eyes grew round at first, suddenly narrowing as her brows drew together.

"Are you saying he raped you?"

"No Red, nothing like that."

"Then what _was_ it like?" She said sarcastically.

"I wanted to stop, he didn't. I was just too sore to continue. So he decided to use a different door. I didn't want him to but he did anyway."

"That sounds like rape to me." Harley rolled her eyes.

"It _wasn't_ rape Red. We were already engaged in a consensual act. Power and mind games are all part and parcel to our regular sex life. He just took it a little too far is all. He still pissed me off though."

"So what are you going to do about it?" Harley shrugged.

"We're going to have to talk about the drugs. I can't live with him like this. I know he's still hurting. I can see that he's chasing the high. He's been abusing anything that gets his adrenaline pumping or releases endorphins, including my poor va-jay-jay, to battle the emptiness he's feeling. He's doing anything he can to fill the hole left by Batsy. I wish there were a pill I could give him that would make him feel better but also take the fight out of him a little." Ivy giggled.

"Well it's not a pill, but I have a suggestion." Harley looked up at the mischievous grin spreading across Ivy's face.

"Ooookay. So spill it already."

"You still have that jar I gave you?"

"Actually yeah, it's in your spare bedroom in the dresser. I forgot to bring it home last time I stayed over, why?"

"Because you're going to give it to J." Harley raised an eyebrow.

"Mistah J is not going to smoke pot, Red. Are ya nuts?"

"He doesn't have to smoke it. He doesn't even have to know he's ingested it. C'mon Harls, lets grab a few wigs and go to the grocery store. We need to pick up a few things." Harley looked very confused.

"I don't understand, what are we doing?"

"We're making J a batch of my special brownies. It'll make him feel good, mellow him out, take the 'fight' out of him and reduce the sexual aggression significantly. He may even put on a few pounds in the process. From what you've told me he could use it right about now."

"I don't know if this is such a good idea Red." Ivy shrugged.

"Right now it sounds like anything is better than a coked up Joker. Give it a try. It's completely natural and there's no chance of overdose. I think you'll be pleased with the results. He may even be a little nicer to you."

Harley rolled it around in her head for a while before making a decision.

"Ah the heck with it. Let's do it." Ivy smiled.

"That's my girl! C'mon, let's get going Harls!"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – The Upward Turn?

Joker was sitting at his desk staring blankly at the empty sheet of paper in front of him. Harley was pissed at him, the mob was targeting him, Black Mask was seeking restitution and worst of all he was completely out of coke to boot. He just couldn't seem to come up with any useable ideas to screw the mob before they screwed him. Since Batsy died he just didn't have any motivation to scheme. Harvey was right though, he really needed to get his head out of his ass. He was the Clown Prince of Crime, he owned Gotham, this was _HIS_ city and those greedy Italian bastards, Carmine Falcone and Salvatore Maroni, were not getting their hands on what was his. He needed to come up with something and soon. He needed to find some inspiration but how?

Across town in the Palisades Dick Grayson was doing everything he could to help Bruce regain his memory. They had flipped through the family photo albums, walked through the manor several times, Dick had told Bruce stories of times they had shared together but so far nothing was working. Alfred had forbidden him from bringing Bruce into the cave or of mentioning his alter ego. Alfred felt talking about Batman would be a major liability until his memory came back. Not knowing better he could accidentally reveal something that destroyed their cover story. Dick understood but it was still driving him nuts. He thought the cave if nothing else would be the thing to bring him back around.

Damian watched the goings on from a distance with an air of nonchalance that couldn't be farther from the truth. Damian's relationship with his father had been very strained leading up to his disappearance. They had been arguing both at home and on the job. That was why Robin was not with Batman the night of the Gotham Towers bombing. They had a particularly bad argument. Bruce was not a loving and patient guardian; he was cold, rigid and structured. Damian, although he would never say it out loud, was just dying for his father's love, affection and acceptance, something Bruce was barely capable of. Dick was more of a father figure to him than Bruce had even been. It didn't stop him from craving that kind of relationship with his father. Since Damian knew he could never win his father over in traditional ways he pushed himself to ridiculous limits, holding himself to exceptionally high standards, not just in his regular studies but also in his combat and detective skills, hoping to at least earn his respect and maybe even some small praise at his efficiency.

Bruce did love his son, but he wasn't good at expressing it. His way of loving his son was trying to protect him. So he left Robin at home for important missions or placed him in an out of the way position to keep him away from the worst of the situation. In Damian's eyes he was being underutilized because his father didn't trust him or felt he was inadequate in some way. The stubbornness each possessed kept either one from expressing their true feelings, so of course the resentment between them began to slowly grow. It had come to a head three days before the Gotham Towers bombing.

They were in the sewers beneath the Bowery tracking Waylon Jones a.k.a. Killer Croc. Damian, hoping to impress his father, snuck off to take Croc down on his own. He found the creature and set up a trap for him, using himself as bait. When Batman arrived on the scene he saw Croc holding his son by his neck in one reptilian hand and reacted. Robin had Croc exactly where he wanted him, until his father interfered. Croc was one step away from falling into his trap but Batman came running, grabbing Croc in a choke hold until he fell unconscious at which point he dropped Damian who was panting and wheezing in the sewage. Batman stormed over to his son.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" Damian stood and glared at his father.

"I had the monster right where I wanted him. If you hadn't have screwed it all up I would have had him!"

"Croc was ready to squeeze your head off, but you had him right where you wanted him? I told you not to leave my side! Robin you have been incapable of following orders lately! I have had enough, as of this instant you are suspended. Go back to the cave, take off that costume and go to your room!" Damian stared at his father open mouthed.

"Tt. I'm suspended? For how long?"

"Until you learn how to follow orders. Good soldiers know how to follow orders, Robin! I don't care if you feel underutilized. I'm the Batman and I call the shots, not you. Two weeks pending review." He clicked his communicator on. "Penny-one?"

"Yes sir?"

"I'm sending Robin home. If he's not there in twenty minutes I want to know about it. He's to change and go to his room to study his Sun Tzu. He is not to leave."

"Yes sir. Understood sir."

Damian was seething. All he wanted to do was impress his father and instead he ended up on suspension. He just couldn't believe it. Dick was staying at the manor that night so when the coast was clear he snuck down the hallway in his pajamas, holding his cat Alfred in his arms and quietly knocked on his door. Dick looked out into the hallway seeing a distressed looking Damian standing before him.

"Dami, what's wrong? Come in and talk to me."

He settled back onto his bed and Damian sat lightly on the side of the mattress, placing Alfred on the foot of the bed. Dick grabbed Damian from behind and dragged him up onto the bed slinging an arm around his shoulders and pulling Damian into his side.

"Tt. Grayson, is this really necessary? What is this obsession of yours with physical contact?"

Dick smiled. Damian always protested but he'd relax and lean against him in a few minutes. Dick knew Damian secretly craved affection in any form and he tried to give him as much attention as he could. Damian had the worst upbringing any kid ever could. He didn't know how to really be a kid, truth be told. He was never allowed to play, he had no friends and the few moments he was actually allowed to see his mother she never once hugged the kid or told him he was loved. He was raised by tutors and sensei's. Instead of making mud pies at four, he was climbing mountains, instead of finger painting in kindergarten, he was fighting gangs of League of Assassins ninjas. Then at eight he gets dumped off with the big, bad Bat. Dick knew from experience how hard growing up under the tutelage of Bruce Wayne was. So he did his best to give Damian the love he so desperately needed no matter how difficult Damian made it to do so.

"So what's going on Little D?" Damian rolled his eyes.

"Would you please stop calling me that?" Dick smirked as he squeezed his adoptive brother.

"Nope. Now come on Dami, I know something is bothering you. What's going on." Damian grabbed his cat and pulled him onto his lap, gently stroking his fur as he began.

"Father has suspended me."

"Uh-oh, I've been there before. Doesn't feel so good does it Dami?" He scratched Alfred behind the ears.

"No, Grayson, it does not. I was just trying to impress him. I would have if he had showed up five seconds later than he did. When he walked in I looked helpless, in trouble, but I had Croc right where I wanted him! One more step and he would have sprung my trap and Croc would have been dangling by his feet from the ceiling." He paused for a moment. "He told me I was not a good soldier."

Damian's eyes were glistening with tears he was fighting back with everything he had. He was brought up to believe that crying showed weakness. Dick pulled him a little closer.

"Look Dami, I know you just want to impress him, but Bruce isn't impressed with skill alone. There's a very good reason he lost his mind over you not obeying orders, you know."

"Tt. And what, pray tell, is that Grayson?"

"Jason."

"Oh"

Jason Todd, the second Robin, disobeyed Bruce leaving the manor and flying overseas alone in search of his mother. He amazingly was able to find her, but what he didn't know was that she was working with the Joker. The Joker subsequently beat Jason to death with a crowbar, then blew up the building that he and his mother were in for good measure. Bruce had never gotten over the loss of his young partner and swore never to lose another again. He felt that even more so with his son, his true flesh and blood.

"Damian, I know your father is a hard man to know. He's lost so many people that he cares about he's put up these walls to keep people out. He doesn't do it on purpose, it's just a defense mechanism. Losing his parents really messed him up, Dami then Jason, Barbara and the list goes on. It makes him cold, believe me I know firsthand. That doesn't mean he doesn't love you or trust you. He just doesn't know how to express himself. His trying to keep you protected and safe says more about how he feels about you than anything else."

"Tt. How do you figure that Grayson?"

"Because it means it would absolutely kill him if anything happened to you. That's why he's being scary overprotective of you Dami. He loves you too much. Cut him a break. If you saw your parents shot down in front of you, it'd screw you up too, kiddo." Damian considered it.

"Dick?" Dick was shocked. Damian never called him by his first name.

"Yes Dami?"

"Would you tell me about them? My grandparents I mean. Father has never discussed them with me. I would like to know a little bit about what kind of people they were."

"Of course Dami. I didn't know them obviously, but Bruce and Alfie have told me plenty of stories."

Dick told Damian all about his grandparents that night. He talked of their careers, how they met, stories about them and Bruce when he was a young boy and even the story about how they were murdered. Listening to this last story, hearing Dick describe the sound his grandmother's pearls made as they fell into the sewers gave him an idea. He fell asleep cuddled with his older brother and his cat dreaming of his new plan to impress his father.

For the next week he searched the sewers beneath crime alley and the Bowery, not looking for Killer Croc, but looking for just one of his grandmother's pearls. If he could find even one, he knew he would earn his father's love and respect. After the Gotham Towers bombing and the disappearance of his father, he still did not stop searching. In fact, he was more determined than ever to find one.

They were currently in the Library and his father was standing staring at the large portrait of Thomas and Martha Wayne. Damian carefully approached his father as he pulled a small box from his pocket. He stood beside the oblivious Bruce and gently tugged on this shirt tail until he looked down at the small boy.

"I have something for you father."

He handed him the box. Bruce stared at it in awe for several moments before slowly lifting the lid. Sitting in the center of a small midnight blue velvet pillow was not one but two of Martha Wayne's lost pearls from that fateful night in Crime Alley. Bruce stared at them. Dick and Damian held their breaths. Bruce's eyes swelled with tears.

"Mother?" Damian took a step closer.

"Yes father, I found grandmother's pearls. Only two, but I'm not done looking yet. I'll find them." Bruce looked up and met his son's gaze.

"Damian?" Damian's eyes also glazed as he saw the recognition in his father's eyes. "You found her pearls? How?"

"I searched the sewers. For weeks. I knew they were important to you father." Bruce reached out and embraced his son.

"Thank you Damian. You have no idea how much this means to me, it's the most beautiful gift you could ever give me. You did very well, son. I'm so proud of you."

Damian beamed under his father's praise as tears leaked from his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. Dick approached them.

"Bruce. Do you know who I am? Are you back with us?" Bruce looked up at his other son.

"Yes Dick, I'm back. Fill me in on what I've missed."

In East Park Side Harley and Ivy were getting into her car with groceries and a fresh warm tray of extra special brownies. They pulled away heading for the warehouse in Tri-Corner Yards.

"So I only give him one?" Ivy looked over at her.

"To start off, yeah. If nothing happens in an hour you can give him another but you shouldn't need to."

"How will I know it's working?" Ivy chuckled.

"Trust me you'll know, but watch his eyes. If they get glassy, bloodshot and narrow. He's stoned." Harley eyed the foil covered pan warily.

"I'm still not too sure about this."

"Harley, it'll be fine. We have plenty of junk food in the trunk and that's all you're really going to need. He'll be gentle as a pussycat."

"If you say so."

As she searched the lair she found him hunched over his desk, his elbows on the edge, head propped between his hands which each clutched a handful of green hair. She stood in the doorway and cleared her throat.

"Mistah J?" He turned, a look of surprise on his face.

"Harley? I didn't think you'd be back for a while."

"Yeah, well, neither did I. Look Mistah J, I know you're feeling bad about the Bat, but you gotta get it together. We can't keep going on like this Puddin." He sighed.

"I know, I know. I'm trying, okay?"

"And the coke has got to stop."

He glared at her. How dare she tell him what he can and can't do? He still had coke in his system, it was making him aggressive.

"I'm out of it anyway, okay? Happy now?"

"Happier than I was Mistah J." He eyed the plate she was holding.

"What's that?" She looked down in mild shock. She had forgotten about it.

"I brought you a snack. Fresh out of the oven brownies. They're still warm." He wrinkled his nose.

"Did you make them?" She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"No, Mistah J, I didn't make them. Jerk." He chuckled at her scrunched up face.

"Sorry Poo, it's just you remember what happened the last time you tried to make brownies."

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are ya?" He took a bite of the brownie, chewed and swallowed.

"Nope. Hmm… unusual aftertaste. What is that? Pistachios?" Harley raised her eyebrows.

"Um, yeah, I think that's it Puddin. Pistachios." He swallowed a second large bite.

"Yup you definitely didn't make these. They're pretty good. Thanks kiddo."

"No problem Mistah J. I got some stuff I gotta do so, see you around Puddin."

As Harley did laundry downstairs, Joker finished his snack and sat at his desk continuing to stare at the still blank sheet of paper in front of him. After some time passed he started to feel really relaxed. He leaned his head in one hand as an idea began to slowly blossom in his mind. He picked up his crayon and began to write and doodle. After an hour of solid scheming he realized he was ravenous and it occurred to him that his girlfriend may have dosed him with something. He wasn't mad, he just wanted to know what it was. He found her in the kitchen making macaroni and cheese on the stovetop.

"That almost ready, Poo? I'm starving." She jumped and looked up.

"Yeah Puddin, just a few more minutes."

He walked into the room and opened the cabinets which were well stocked to his surprise. He grabbed a bag of chips and a Twinkie, opened the fridge to grab a soda and brought his bounty to the living room. He slumped down in front of the TV as he struggled to open the chip bag. Whatever she gave him it was strong, maybe a new anti-psychotic? He finally got the bag opened and shoveled a handful of chips into his mouth as he surfed through the stations. He stopped on Ridiculousness. Harley heard him from the other room cackling. She fixed him a plate and brought it in to him. He laughed again as a skateboarder cracked his nuts on a handrail.

"Harley, have you ever seen this? It's hysterical!" She handed him his plate. "Oooh that looks good. Thanks, you're awesome Harls."

Harley did a double take. Did he just call her awesome? Did he just thank her? Well that was unusual.

"You're welcome Pud. You okay, baby?"

"Hunky dory Pumpkin. I even came up with a plan to deal with the mob." He shoveled a forkful of mac and cheese into his mouth. "So, what did you give me Harley? Xanax, anti-psychotics?" She looked down, a guilty expression crossing her features.

"Don't be mad."

"I promise."

"Marijuana." His eyes bulged.

"What? Ha ha ha. You gave me dope? That's so demented, I love it! Oh Harley, hee hee. That's almost too much." She had winced expecting to be slapped. Her face relaxed as she stared at him confused.

"You're not mad?"

He has holding his stomach as he chortled. Once he could control himself he wiped a tear from under his eye and looked at her.

"No, I'm not mad. I'm surprised you didn't try it sooner. Your best friend is the biggest pot supplier in the city." She looked at him in shock.

"You knew?"

"Of course I did."

"I just found out like a month ago!" He chuckled at her.

"Oh Harley, you do know how to make me laugh. No, thanks actually. I wouldn't have been able to come up with a plan to save our asses from the mob without the 'inspiration'. Will you come with me to the sit down Pumpkin?" She grinned at him.

"Of course I will Puddin."

"So, got any more of those 'brownies' Harls?" She nodded.

"Yeah a whole tray Puddin."

"Well, I think it's time for another and I'd like you to join me." She looked up with round eyes.

"I don't know Pud, I had a bad experience once."

"With pot?"

"No. Molly."

"Not the same thing. Please Pumpkin? I promise you'll like it."

"No peer pressure Mistah J."

"Please, please, please. It'll make daddy very happy." She rolled her eyes.

"Fine, Mistah J. But just this one time okay?" He sprouted a grin that almost split his face.

"Deal."

Harley exited the room, hands shaking, preparing to have a new adventure with her Mistah J. It was shaping up to be an interesting night.

 **A/N - So, since this has been a dark journey so far, I wanted to give you a nice lighthearted chapter for sticking with me through it. It's been rough having a depressed and violent Joker inside of my head for the past few weeks. I think that's why I needed the vacation. Wrapping this one up in the next chapter and moving on to Legacy part II. Thanks for reading! You guys rock!**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 – Acceptance and Hope

Harley stirred from her slumber to find herself lying on top of her Puddin on their couch, his arms curled around her as he snored deeply. She had never indulged in cannabis before and she had expected some kind of hangover the following day. She felt a little groggy but was pleasantly surprised to discover that she otherwise felt great. She scanned the living room. The TV's screensaver bounced lazily around the screen and the DVD player was still on. They had fallen asleep watching a marathon of The Three Stooges. The coffee table was littered with half eaten bowls of popcorn, empty chip bags, bowls containing remnants of melted ice cream, candy wrappers and a mostly empty container of Oreo's. She moaned inwardly as she realized not only how much they had eaten but how much of a mess they made.

 _Ugh, I'm going to have to work out for four hours today to make up for all the junk food last night. It was fun, I laughed my ass off with Puddin, but it's probably not something I'd do again. My waistline can't take that kind of abuse on a regular basis. It was nice to have Mistah J actually being nice to me for a change though._

She realized her bladder was screaming for relief and as she tried to slip out of J's arms she accidentally roused him. He snorted, opened one eye and once he realized his human blanket was trying to take his warmth away, wrapped his arms around Harley and held her tightly against his chest.

"Don't go yet. It's cold." She smiled, happy he was being affectionate but she really needed to get up.

"Pud, ya gotta let me go or you'll be warm and wet."

He sighed but let her go. He watched her pad down the hallway to the bathroom. He surveyed the room and couldn't help but chuckle. Harley still managed to surprise him, even after all this time. He never in a million years thought she'd be devious enough to dose him with street drugs. Now that he was sober it also occurred to him what a complete shit he had been to her over the past few weeks. He supposed he should probably do something nice to make it up to her. She had stuck by him through this whole Batman thing even though he was completely unhinged in his grief and she somehow managed to get him through it.

He was feeling more optimistic than he had in weeks. Maybe there was life after the Bat after all. He had a solid plan for the sit down, a plan to expand his holdings and he had Harley by his side. He was still the Clown Prince of Crime and the most powerful and dangerous criminal in the Gotham underworld. He had business to take care of and smiles to share. So what if he gets stuck dealing with the first Boy Blunder wearing the cape and cowl. It won't be the same, but maybe in time he'd be able to adapt. Joker stretched, his spine crackling and popping as he did so. The sit down was in three days and he had work he needed to get done. First and foremost he supposed he better hire some new henchmen since he had killed a good portion of them off back at the lair in Chinatown. He stood, yawned and decided to get his ass in gear. He had a lot to accomplish in the next three days.

Beneath Wayne Manor, Alfred, Dick and Damian were in the Batcave filling Bruce in on what had been happening in Gotham since he lost his memory. Dick currently had the floor.

"So my contact within the Falcone family told me Joker has called a sit down of all of the families. It's supposed to go down this Friday night at a warehouse in Rogers Yacht Basin and I have a feeling Joker has something big planned. He has to have heard by now that the Maroni's and Falcone's have joined forces to take him out and I know he isn't going to go down without a fight. We need to get there and take care of it before the carnage starts." Bruce held his chin in his hand as he took in the information.

"I agree, Dick. I think we should start at the Stacked Deck. If the rumors are true, Joker killed a good portion of his help and he'll be looking for replacements. I think it may be time for Matches Malone to return to Gotham looking for a little work. While I case the Stacked Deck I'd like you and Damian to seek out Joker's known associates and get any information you can on his plan."

Matches Malone was one of Batman's alter egos. With the addition of a brown wig and mustache, a prosthetic nose, a pair of dark sunglasses, a tacky plaid suit, a match in the corner of his mouth and a flat, nasal Northern Jersey accent he was transformed into one of Gotham's criminal lowlifes. Matches had a criminal record and rap sheet in the police database in case anyone decided to check out his credibility.

"You got it, Bruce. Dami and I will see what we can dig up. You sure you're up to jumping back in the saddle so soon?"

"I'll be fine Dick. It's time to take my city back."

That evening Joker, Harley and Lewis showed up to the Stacked Deck, taking a darkened corner booth in the rear of the bar. The Stacked Deck was well known as a recruiting spot for Gotham's costumed villains. If a thug in Gotham were looking for work, it was the best place in the city to find it. Joker leaned back, his arms spread across the back of the bench seat.

"Harley, Lewis. Get out there and mingle. If you find anyone worthwhile bring them to me."

The bar was bustling for a Wednesday night. It seemed like every lowlife thug, gunman and hooligan were out looking for work, which was fortunate for Joker. He could weed through the 'applicants' to find the best men for the job. As a plainclothes Harley walked through the room she spotted a tall guy in the most hideous suit she'd ever seen. He looked like a door to door salesman from the seventies, but he was huge. The bigger guys upped Joker's intimidation factor and she thought he may just be what Mistah J was looking for.

"Hey you!" Matches turned to the high pitched, squeaky voice. "Yeah you, big guy. You looking for a job?"

"Maybe. Depends on the job and the pay." Harley scrutinized his face. He looked kind of familiar but she couldn't put her finger on where she'd seen him before.

"What's your name?"

"Name's Matches. Matches Malone." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" She raised her hand, blocking out the top half of his face. "There's something about that chin." She shrugged her shoulders. "So what kinda experience you got, Matches?"

"Well, arson is kinda my specialty but I been known to do a little of dis and a little of dat. Body guarding, protection rackets, armed muscle. Done a few bank jobs, a little grand theft auto."

"You man enough to go up against the Italians, tough guy?"

"I ain't scared of the Italians sweetheart. I'm your guy if the price is right." Harley looked him over again. That feeling of familiarity was haunting her. She shrugged it off.

"Well then step into the boss's office so he can greenlight ya." Harley led Matches to Joker's booth.

"Hey boss, I think I got a live one here." Joker leaned forward into the light to look the guy over.

"Well, you're a rather large fellow. You have experience?"

"Experience? Fuhgettaboutit. I got more experience than five of these other mooks combined." Joker raised a verdant brow.

"Really, now? Who have you worked for?"

"Me and my brother Carver, God rest his soul, ran an insurance fraud racket for years. After Carver died I worked with the Sullivan family for a while. After that I moved around, did a little work for Penguin, Black Mask and Scarface just to name a few."

Joker sized the guy up. He seemed pretty sure of himself, he had the size and from his musculature he had strength behind it too. The suit was horrendous, but otherwise he seemed like he could be an asset. Joker shouted over to his girlfriend.

"Harley!"

"Yes Mistah J?"

"Call Billy, have him run a check on Mr. Malone and get back to me."

"A-okay Mistah J!" Joker chatted with Matches for a few minutes while he waited for Harley to get back. She returned moments later.

"Hey boss, his story checks out. Arrests in Hoboken for arson and insurance fraud, served a stint in Blackgate for racketeering and Gotham Penitentiary for embezzlement. Malone is on the up and up." A wide smile spread across Joker's face.

"Wonderful. So would you like to join our little organization?"

"What's the job and how much is my cut?"

"We're up against the Italian mob, Mr. Malone, and the cut is ten grand."

"You gonna give me any specifics?"

"Just what you need to know, and what you need to know is that there's a hit list I need executed in the next two nights. Your job is to take out a little Capo pain in the ass named Mario Falcone." Matches eyes widened under the dark glasses.

"You're knocking off the Don's son?"

"No. _You're_ knocking off the Don's son." Joker grabbed the gun he had on the seat next to him and pointed it at Matches under the table. If Malone backed out now, he'd have to kill him or risk word of his plan getting out. "You have a problem with that?"

"For ten grand I do! Fifteen and I'm on board."

Joker chuckled, he low-balled the guy on purpose. He was happy to see this guy had the stones to ask for more money.

"Well, Mr. Malone, I do believe we have a deal! Welcome to my little circus!" They shook on it and Joker handed Malone a manila envelope that contained everything Matches needed to know about Mario Falcone in order to find him and kill him. "Oh and Mr. Malone, one more teensy little detail before you head off."

"Yeah boss?"

"I'll need you to bring me back his head before Friday night. Kay?" Matches noticeably shuddered.

"That's kinda creepy, but it's your dime. How do I reach you?" Joker threw him a prepaid burner phone.

"Call the only contact in the list. You'll be given further instructions. Now, off you go, times a wastin'." He said as he casually waved his new henchman away.

Matches left the Stacked Deck as Joker and Harley continued their recruitment effort. Once he was several blocks away he ducked into an alley and removed the Matches costume, changing into his Batsuit. He touched the communicator in his ear

"Nightwing, come in."

"Nightwing here, go ahead Batman."

"I was able to discover a portion of his plan. He's hitting the Capos of both families. We need to take out his thugs before they get to the targets. I want you and Damian to split up. You keep an eye on the Falcone's and have Damian follow the Maroni's. I'm going to stake out the warehouse. Joker surely has something more lethal planned than a duffel bag full of heads and I plan on putting a stop to it."

"Will do Batman, Nightwing out."

The next two days were a whirlwind of activity for both Joker and his crew and the Bat-brood. So far he had two of the twelve heads he had requested in his possession, which was not nearly enough. He was beginning to get impatient. Joker spent most of his time rigging the warehouse with canisters of Smilex. If the heads of their Capos weren't enough incentive to get Carmine and Salvatore to give up a large portion of their respective territories, the Smilex would take care of the rest.

So far Nightwing and Damian were able to get eight of the twelve mobsters on Joker's hit list into temporary protective custody. Try as they might they couldn't find the final four and they feared the worst. Batman had been staking out the warehouse and observed Joker and his men rigging the building with his toxic gas. Very early Friday morning, after Joker's crew left, he was able to disable the canisters and destroy them so they couldn't do any further harm. With that done Batman returned to the Manor to get a few hours of sleep and prepare to take Joker and Harley down later that night.

Joker was pacing their living space. Harley watched him as he walked back and forth muttering under his breath.

"What's wrong Mistah J?" He stopped, turned and shot Harley a frustrated look.

"What's wrong? What's wrong, Harley, is that there should be twelve heads in this duffel bag, but do you know how many I have?"

"Um, four I think Puddin."

"That's exactly right Harley. My targets have seemingly disappeared over the past few days. Poof, gone. Doesn't that strike you as being a bit suspicious?" She tilted her head to the side as she considered it.

"Well Pud, maybe they got scared and went into hiding?" He released a heavy breath.

"The more likely explanation is that there's a rat in our midst. A yellow bellied stool pigeon! And I suspect I know who it is. I haven't been able to reach Malone since I hired him. I knew there was something off about that guy. I should never have taken him on! God damn it! This is my big return to crime and my plan is falling apart!"

"You still have the Smilex, Puddin." Harley said encouragingly.

"Yes I suppose there is that. It'll have to do. But if I find Matches Malone, I'm going to rip his intestines out through his mouth!" He looked at the clock. "Time for us to get ready Pumpkin, it's almost time."

"Yes sir!" She replied with a salute.

Slowly one by one the members of each family arrived. There were representatives from all of the major families. The Ukrainian Odessa family, the Riley's and Sullivan's representing the Irish mob, the Romanian Ibanescu family, Black Mask and the False Face Society, the Yakuza, La Cosa Nostra: the Sicilian families and of course the Maroni's and Falcone's as well as the bulk of the Rogue gallery were present.

Joker sat at the center of the large table, Harley perched on the arm of his chair waiting to bring their meeting to order. Carmine and Salvatore were glaring daggers at the smiling clown couple. They hated costumed criminals, freaks, the lot of them. Their plan to take out Joker and carve up his territory had so far been thwarted as their best made guys disappeared one by one. They suspected Joker was the culprit. J cleared his throat.

"I'd like to call this meeting to order." He stood and began walking behind the seated gangsters as he talked. "It has come to my attention that while I was _under the weather_ some of you in this room decided to get a little greedy. And we can't have that, now can we? With the Bat gone for good, we have an amazing opportunity here, but we can't just have you all running around willy-nilly fighting one another for scraps. We need to organize, we need to cooperate." He stood behind Maroni and Falcone. "But how can we cooperate when some of us are busy scheming against one another? Take old Sally boy." He clapped Maroni on the shoulder. "He and Carmine here were planning to take advantage of me while I was ill, after the years of generosity I've shown them, and try to carve up my territory for their own! Harley, the bag please."

Harley rushed over with the duffel bag and handed it to Joker, who unzipped it, held it above his head and let the contents roll across the table. Several of the assembled criminals wretched at the sight of the decapitated heads.

"Fellas, this is just a small example of what will happen to anyone who tries to take advantage of the Joker. This is _MY_ city and don't any of you forget it!"

As Joker ranted to the assembled crooks Batman and every associate he could get in contact with were perched in the rafters of the warehouse waiting for the right moment to strike. Below them Joker pulled out the detonator that controlled the gas canisters. He pressed the button and stared as nothing happened. He rapidly pressed the button getting angry as he did so.

"What the hell?"

Batman signaled his crew. It was now or never. They descended on the group and the criminals scattered. Nightwing went after the Italians, Robin the Yakuza, Spoiler took out the Romanians, Red Robin pursued the Odessa's, Red Hood handled the Sicilians, the Huntress took care of the Irish while the strangely silent Batgirl subdued Black Mask's crew. Joker stared around the room in bewildered at the sudden attack. A shadow fell across him causing him to look up. He froze in shock. It couldn't be. Batman landed in front of Joker, his mouth a firm line pressed together in pure determination.

"It's over Joker, you're going back to Arkham. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, your choice." He growled in his deep gravelly voice. Joker's eyes widened as tears of joy began to flood them.

"Batsy? It's you! It's really you! You're not dead?"

"It was a close call Joker, but you failed. Again. I'm still alive." Joker's whole face brightened. To Batman's surprise Joker seized him in a giant bear hug.

"Oh Batsy, you have no idea how relieved I am. I mean, at first I was happy but then I realized that if I kill you I'm out of a job." Tears were freely running down Joker's face as he bounced on the balls of his toes in excitement. "You're back! You know you scared me this time Bats. I really thought you were gone for good. You have no idea how happy I am right now!"

It took Batman a few moments to get over his initial shock at Joker's reaction but he had a job to do. He grabbed Joker by the shoulders and pushed him away from himself. Batman pulled his right fist back and punched Joker squarely in the face, breaking his nose. Joker started cackling uncontrollably.

"Ha ha ha! That's it Batsy old boy! That's the loving fist to the face I've been missing! C'mon, sock me again!" Batman obliged him multiple times until Joker lay in a bloody mess on the floor of the warehouse. "Oh Batsy, how I missed you so. I just knew you'd come back to me. You could never resist me."

Batman dragged Joker to the Batmobile as Nightwing dragged a handcuffed Harley Quinn out to join her lover for their ride to Arkham. Joker sighed contentedly as Batman dropped him into the front seat of the Batmobile. Joker prattled on incessantly as they began the drive to Arkham Asylum.

"Batsy you old fooler you. Hiding out for weeks on end, making me think you were really dead. _For shame_. Oh, but now that you're back I can be my old happy self again! Oh the games we'll play, the times we'll have together. I can't wait to start planning. I won't let you down Bat-breath, I'm going to come up with something super special for you to welcome you back to the land of the living!"

Neither Batman nor Harley could bear to hear any more out of the manic clown. Batman glanced at Harley in the rearview and she nodded almost imperceptivity. Batman grabbed Joker's head and bashed it harshly into the window knocking him out for the rest of the ride.

"Thanks B-man. I heard just about enough outta him. Ya know he really was a mess when he thought you were dead. I thought he was finally gonna go off the deep end for real." Batman met her eyes in the mirror.

"Is that supposed to flatter me?"

"I don't know. If he talked about me the way he talks about you, I know I'd be pretty flattered." She sighed. "Guess I better get used to being the second most important person in Mistah J's life again."

They reached the asylum and Joker came around just as Batman was slamming his cell door closed. Batman turned to leave and Joker jumped up pressing himself to the glass as he watched Batman walk down the hallway.

"Welcome back Batsy! I'll be dreaming up a brand new game for us to play for when I bust out of here! Hey, Batsy call me okay. Batsy? I'll be counting the minutes until I get to see you again!" he yelled as Batman disappeared.

Joker slid down his cell wall and sat on the floor with a euphoric look on his face. Harley glared at him across the hallway from her own cell. That was the same look he had after sex. She couldn't believe it! She had finally gotten Joker over the Bat and he decides to show back up and spoil everything. She crossed her arms over her chest in annoyance as she realized that it was going to be a long lonely winter. She really should have dropped him in that tank of piranhas when she had the chance.

-Fin

 **A/N – So that's it folks. Batsy's alive and Joker has his real true love back. I know this was a pretty dark story for me but I don't want to be pigeonholed as that writer who only writes a super fluffy Joker. Thanks for taking the journey with me and a huge shout out to all of my wonderful reviewers. You guys helped keep me on track on this one. I almost gave up on it halfway through. So thanks again for poking me to get back on track and finish this one up. I will be working on Legacy part II immediately and will hopefully have something published later in the week.**


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